


(c'mon c'mon) Collide

by bicroft



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, In Russia With Geno, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-19 02:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicroft/pseuds/bicroft
Summary: Sid goes to Russia for a semester, and falls in love.





	(c'mon c'mon) Collide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Up_A_Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/gifts).



> Title taken from Cassiopeia by Sara Bareilles

Sid usually loved the cold. 

He was Canadian, and a hockey player, and at the very least a  _ tolerance  _ for the cold was a requirement for both of those things. He didn’t just tolerate it, though: Sid  _ loved  _ it, really and truly. Winter, to him, felt more like home than a season. His family had always joked that maybe there was more ice in his veins than blood, and he’d heard others say similar things in hushed tones with much less love, but either way, he was inclined to agree. 

For some reason, though, Russian winters didn’t feel quite the same. He’d only been in the country for a handful of minutes, but already, he was shivering; his breath was crystallizing in the air in front of him, and if it weren’t for the nerves and adrenaline that came with being in a new place he knew too little about for his own taste, he was sure he would be frozen to the spot where he stood. 

He was clutching the English-Russian phrasebook he’d been studying for months like it was the only thing keeping him afloat in an unfamiliar ocean. All the signs looked like they were written in an alien language, even for as long as Sid had spent trying to learn Russian to prepare for this trip, and all the people around him might as well have been speaking Pig Latin from what Sid could pull out of their conversations-- only simple words and the snippets of phrases. He wondered if this was what it was like being a baby, and somehow remembering it, living and having to hear people say things you should be able to understand, should be able to respond to, if only you could just make your mind and mouth work the right way. 

At first glance, this trip had been a good idea. His school had touted it as the learning experience of a lifetime: for most of the school year, they’d match you up with a family overseas where you could “pursue your interests internationally”- and, of course, for Sid, that was hockey, and there was nowhere (other than Canada, obviously) better for hockey than Russia. Miraculously, they’d found a family who had a son who had just started playing professionally and was willing to let Sid tag along with him to practices and training, and he’s snatched it up in a second.

It meant missing at least part of a season with Rimouski, but it also meant gaining experience in a true professional league, and going into the NHL, that was something Sid couldn’t dream of passing up. ‘A lot of guys took years to go abroad’ was how he’d reasoned it with his parents when he’d still been in the stages of begging to make it happen, and it wasn’t like he was letting his skills decline. He’d be training with veteran players, people who knew what they were doing and could give him some kind of direction for when he (hopefully) went to the NHL in the next few years. 

Now, though, standing as a stranger in a strange land, he was maybe starting to regret it. He’d been standing outside the airport for going on twenty minutes now, and there was no sign of anyone here to pick him.  _ Maybe _ , he thought briefly, hysterically,  _ they forgot about me _ . Maybe he was going to be stuck here, and he’d eventually just freeze in place and have to be chipped off of the sidewalk. 

He allowed his mind to run off with that terrifying thought for a minute, and run it did, until he was distracted by a car peeling into the airport parking lot at an alarmingly fast speed. From what he’d seen of cars passing by, driving in Russia was definitely different from driving in Canada, or even driving in America, but even then, this driver seemed like they were trying to qualify for the Grand Prix. He jumped back a full foot when the car stopped an arm’s length in front of him, and a man- a boy, probably would have been a better term; he looked to be about Sid’s age- tumbled out of the driver’s seat, not even bothering to turn off the car. He looked around wildly before his gaze fell to Sid, and a wide smile spread across his features. 

He ducked into the back seat, and pulled out a small, handwritten sign.  _ Сидней  _ _ Кросби  _ it said, and even if Sid couldn’t read the first thing he’d learned to write in Russian,  _ Sidney Crosby  _ was written below it in sharp, sloppy English lettering. He showed the sign to Sid, holding it above his head like an enthusiastic girlfriend at a hockey game. “Is you?” the boy called, shaking the sign a little. 

 

Sid blinked at the boy and the sign, not sure of what to say, or if this was really even happening. The boy started to frown and put his sign down, and that spurred Sid into action. “Sorry!” he called back, almost tripping over himself as he ran over to him. “Sorry, yes, that’s me, my name’s Sidney-  _ Меня зовут  _ _ Сидней  _ _ Кросби. _ ” His Russian was as shaky as his nerves, but he still managed to get the words out.

 

The boy’s face lit up again, and it almost made Sid smile, too. He was taller than Sid by a significant amount, enough that Sid had to crane his neck a little to look up at him. He dropped his sign and pulled Sid into a hug. Sid’s eyes went wide; he hadn’t been expecting that, and he was still dazed when the boy stepped away, babbling in quick Russian. Sid could only pick out a few scattered words and syllables, and he held a hand up to stop the boy as he tried to pull himself back together. “Sorry,  _ Sorry _ _ , _ I, uh-  _ My Russian is bad _ _. Can you speak more slow? _ ” These things, too, were among the first things Sid had learned; he’d figured he was going to have to use them a lot, especially at first, if the years he’d spent learning French in school had been any indication of how learning Russian was going to go for him. 

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” the boy said, flushing a little. “Sorry, sorry. I speak little English.” He grinned, again, and Sid could tell he was teasing, but that didn’t stop him from being embarrassed and flushing a little as well. He picked up in Russian again, this time, much slower. “ _ I said, my name’s Evgeni- Evgeni Malkin _ .  _ Sorry I’m late, there was a bad accident, and I got a little lost. _ ”

 

“It’s fine- I mean, uh…  _ fine, is fine. _ ” This was a lot harder than Sid had expected. Even though he knew most of the words he needed, and had practiced them a dozen times over on the plane and in the months beforehand, he didn’t seem to be able to get them to come now that he needed them. 

 

Evgeni kept smiling and clapped him on the back. “ _ I’ll make it up to you later, _ ” he said. “ _ Or, I guess Mama will- she’s been hurrying around all week, trying to get ready. I don’t think I’ve ever cleaned more in my life. She was cooking, when I left to pick you up, probably still is. You’re about to eat the best meal of your life.” _ He was back to babbling again, and Sid could only pick up a few words, but he knew enough and had been raised with enough sense to smile and nod along. 

 

_ “I’m— _ uh, god- grateful, what’s the word— _ Is very nice of you to… let me stay _ .” Sid said as they walked back to the car, and Evgeni took his bags from him to put in the trunk. 

 

“ _ Our pleasure.”  _ Evgeni said as they both got into the car and then, as they were pulling out of the parking lot, asked “ _ You play hockey, yes?” _

 

‘Yes’ was on the tip of Sid’s tongue, but as soon as they were out of the parking lot, Evgeni took off like a racehorse, startling only an embarrassing noise out of him. Evgeni seemed to take it as an affirmative, though, and just kept talking. “ _ It’s going to be nice, having someone who isn’t an old man to train with- if you can keep up.”  _

 

Evgeni was smiling, so Sid knew he was making a joke, but he still felt the edge of a challenge underneath it. He tilted his chin up, staring back at Evgeni in the rearview mirror. “ _ I can keep up _ .” It was the first clear Russian he’d spoken all day. 

 

Evgeni’s smile got impossibly wider. “ _ I know you can _ ,” he said. “ _ I asked my agent if he could find any tape of you, after I heard about you coming to stay; you’re good, really good. _ ”

 

Sid was surprised by the compliment, and he chose to chalk being caught off guard to the reason that a flush worked its way down his neck. “Th- oh.  _ Thank you, nice to say. _ ” 

 

“ _ Only the truth _ .” Evgeni shrugged, and turned his attention back to the road. Sid was grateful for it, as things only seemed to get more and more harrowing the farther they went. He was clutching the door handle until Evgeni pulled into a driveway and parked, and he finally felt like his life wasn’t flashing before his eyes. 

 

“ _ You’ll get used to the traffic, _ ” Evgeni said, clapping him on the shoulder as Sid took his seatbelt off, nearly sending him tumbling face-first into the dash. “ _ Come, I need to show Denis I didn’t kill you with my driving; he said I would. _ ” 

 

“ _ Was not bad, _ ” Sid lied. Evgeni smiled at him again, and grabbed his bags from the trunk again. 

 

“ _ Because I’m the best driver, _ ” he said, and Sid couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but he gave a polite but nervous laugh all the same. 

 

When they walked into the house, Sid was hit with the smell of something cooking, and was promptly reminded that he hadn’t eaten anything of substance since leaving North America. Evgeni set his bags down at the door and kept walking into the house, speaking too quickly for Sid to really follow, seemingly calling out to someone. Sid stood there a bit awkwardly, looking around what he could see of the home, and trying to correlate that with ‘home’, at least for the next few months. The Malkins’ home didn’t seem too different from his own, at first glance; the pictures on the walls were different, and had people in them who were unfamiliar, but they were still there, and he could still tell that this was a place that people lived, and loved, and that it probably wasn’t secretly a house of horrors. 

 

He could still hear Evgeni talking, and his voice was getting close again, as well as that of a woman, and another guy. When they got into sight, Evgeni started gesturing to him, talking back and forth more with the guy, who Sid assumed was maybe his brother. He could see him, or at least, a blond child who  _ looked  _ like him, in the pictures on the wall with a child that looked like Evgeni. Their voices were steadily rising, and Sid was maybe starting to freak out a little, when the woman- Evgeni’s mother, maybe? - hissed something that Sid could pick up as “ _ Stop it _ ”, and they both snapped their mouths shut. 

 

“ _ You must be Sidney _ ,” the woman said, stepping forward. “ _ Was your flight alright? _ ” 

 

“ _ Was okay, yes,”  _ Sid said, giving her a nervous smile. The guy standing next to Evgeni snorted, and said something that was too quick for Sid to pick up on. Evgeni glared at him, and stuck his tongue out. Their mother gave them both looks that Sid was sure would have been deadly, if looks could kill. Sid looked between the three of them, and stuttered on. “I, uh— _ thank you, for let me stay _ .” 

 

“ _ Our pleasure, I’m sure _ .” The woman’s smile was kind, and Sid automatically liked her. “ _ Call me Natalia _ .” 

 

“ _ Natalia, _ ” Sid repeated, and she just smiled at him again. 

 

“ _ Denis _ ,” the blond boy grunted, looking at him distrustfully. Sid smiled at him, too. 

 

“ _ Nice to meet you all, _ ” Sid said. Denis just looked him over, and nodded, seeming to decide something. Sid was almost scared to ask  _ what  _ he decided. 

 

“ _ Papa’s not back yet, but, he will be soon _ ,” Evgeni said, stepping forward and picking up Sid’s bags again before he could do it himself. “ _ I can show you your room? _ ” 

 

“ _ Please, yes, _ ” Sid said, maybe a bit too fast, stumbling over the words. This was all a lot to take in, and maybe a few moments to himself would help. Evgeni nodded, and gestured for him to follow. “ _ Sorry about Denis _ ,” he said once they were a little way down the hall. “ _ He’s just- _ ” He said a word Sid didn’t recognize, and he blinked. 

 

“ _ Sorry _ ,” he said. “ _ I don’t understand _ .” 

 

Evgeni flushed, and bit his lip. “Asshole.” he said in English, whispering the word to Sid like it was a secret. “My brother, asshole. 

 

“Oh,” Sid said, flushing a bit himself. “No, no, it’s fine-  _ was fine, not bad _ .” 

 

“If you’re say so.” Evgeni shrugged, sounding skeptical. He pushed open the door to a room near the end of the hall. “ _ All yours.”  _

 

Sid smiled at him.  _ “Thank you _ ,” he said, and Evgeni just smiled at him again. 

 

“ _ I’ll come get you for dinner _ ,” Evgeni said, and stepped back out into the hall. 

 

Once the door was closed behind Evgeni, Sid slumped and turned to look around the room. It wasn’t significantly larger or smaller than his room at home, but it was definitely bigger than the room he’d shared when he was still going to Shattuck-St. Mary’s. Almost tentatively, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and after a few moments, fell back onto it entirely, staring up at the freckled ceiling. The bed was comfortable and the room was nice- but, it wasn’t home, and that much was obvious. A sudden pang of homesickness hit him like a truck, gripping his stomach like a vice. He closed his eyes against it and was hit with a wave of exhaustion for his troubles. 

 

He knew he shouldn’t sleep, that he should let his body adjust to the new place and the new time zone, but the pull of sleep was a little too much this time. It was better, he figured as he let himself slip off, to sleep now and not be exhausted through dinner, and then let himself sit awake through the night instead. Less rude. 

 

He was woken up what seemed like seconds later to someone standing over him. He panicked and shot straight up in his bed before his mind caught up with him, and he realized where he was and why. “Food ready,” Evgeni said, in English, and then switched back to Russian to ask: “ _ Did you sleep well? _ ” 

 

“ _ Think so _ ,” Sid said, stifling a yawn. Evgeni laughed. 

 

“ _ New beds are always hard _ ,” he said, and stepped back so Sid could get out of bed and stretch. From a quick glance out of the room’s one window, he could tell that the sun had long gone down, so he must have slept for at least a couple of hours. He didn’t feel very rested, though; instead, he felt restless, and,  _ very hungry.  _

 

“ _ You said food? _ ” he asked, and Evgeni laughed again.

 

“ _ Best food you’ll ever have _ ,” he said, and nodded for Sid to follow him back down the hall. The table was already set and Sid felt a little guilty that he hadn’t been awake to offer to help. He resolved to make sure to offer to help clean up, and slid into a seat when Evgeni did. The rest of the Malkins were already sitting and talking, and Sid was content to just let the conversation wash over him in silence, even if they were talking too quickly for him to be able to properly engage. 

 

The food, when he was offered it, smelled amazing, and as soon as he tried it he was quick to agree with Evgeni that it was the best he’d ever had. And, even if he was never going to tell  _ his  _ mother that, he was happy to tell Natalia. She laughed and thanked him, and Mr. Malkin- who told Sid to call him Vladimir- smiled at him and gave an approving nod. 

 

The only part of the family that didn’t seem happy that Sid was there was Denis, who had been steadily glaring at him while they all ate. Evgeni, in turn, was glaring at Denis, as if daring him to say something. Sid wasn’t sure what was going on there, but he tried to keep his head ducked and stay out of it. Whatever it was- distrust, annoyance- he was sure it would pass in a few days, once he got used to being there and learned to stay out of the way of everyone’s daily life. 

 

All the same, he was glad to finally be out from under Denis’ gaze when everyone finished eating and rose, and Evgeni gave him an out. “ _ You must still be tried, from your flight _ ,” he said, casual in a way that let Sid know that he was trying to let him bow out, if the way that he was staring down Denis instead of looking to Sid while he said it wasn’t an indicator. 

 

Sid was grateful for it nontheless, and rose from his seat. “ _ Yes, much tired _ .” 

 

“ _ We’ll see you in the morning _ ,” Natalia said. “ _ Zhenya always wakes up late for practice, though, so you won’t have to worry about not getting enough sleep _ .” 

 

“ _ There’s no reason to be there  _ early,” Evgeni huffed, which was Sid’s clue that ‘Zhenya’ must have been some kind of nickname for him. He smiled at Sid. “ _ I’ll wake you up in the morning, when it’s time to go.” _

 

_ “Thank you _ ,” Sid said, giving him a small smile in return, and hoping it got through that he was thanking him for more than just the wakeup call. “ _ Good night _ .” 

 

“ _ Good night _ ,” the Malkins chorused, even Denis, though there was still more than a bit of malice to his. Sid started back to his room, and was once again relieved to close the door behind him. 

 

He contemplated calling home for a second before he remembered the time difference. His parents would probably love the call, but wouldn’t be happy at the early hour. Instead, he just got ready for bed as quickly as he could and laid down, staring at the ceiling and willing himself to fall asleep as easily as he had earlier. He couldn’t make himself calm down, though, and after ten minutes of staring at the same spot on the ceiling, he heaved a sigh and gave up, letting his mind wander instead. 

 

He wondered how the team was going to do without him; he was missing the first part of the season, and that alone had almost been enough to get him to skip out, but he knew that they could hold down the team without him there. It wasn’t like he was the  _ only  _ person on the team that scored or made plays, as much as people liked to spin it that way. 

 

He sighed again and turned over, staring at the light coming in from under the door. A shadow passed, and paused in front for a moment, blocking the light, and Sid assumed it was Evgeni. It could have easily not been- could have been Natalia or Vladimir, or even Denis- but, for some reason, it made Sid settle a little more to think that it was Evgeni, stopping to see if he was okay. 

 

Normally, he would have quashed the feeling; he didn’t let himself get attached to people easily, especially not people he was sharing the ice with. He wasn’t going to be  _ playing _ with Evgeni, not really, but he was still going to be working with him, and Sid knew himself well enough to know that a skilled player with a kind smile was a dangerous combination where his heart was concerned.

 

Now, though, he didn’t immediately shove the feeling back. He was across the world from any friend he may have, and it was only natural that he was looking for some kind of support from somewhere- and, if Evgeni did that for him, then he might as well let it happen. He was only going to be here for a few months, anyway; after that, any feelings he might have towards Evgeni, positive or otherwise, wouldn’t matter. He’d be back to Canada, with a future in the NHL, and Evgeni would be here, a million miles away and focusing on his own career, wherever that was going to take him.

 

For some reason, it was that thought that finally started to lull him to sleep, and Sid just let himself be taken under. As much as this was a foreign land, it was a new start- at least, for a while- and Sid was going to make the best of it. 

 

He woke up the next morning, once again, with Evgeni standing over him, and instead of panicking this time, he just smiled. “ _ Good morning _ .” Sid yawned, sitting up and stretching as his brain came back online. 

 

Evgeni laughed. “Good morning,” he said in English. “Good sleep?”

 

“Yeah,” Sid said. He knew he should probably be practicing his Russian, but when he was still groggy, he was happy that Evgeni knew whatever English he did. “Very good, thanks.” 

 

“Down hall, bathroom,” Evgeni said, pointing as he stepped back. “Breakfast after, then skate.” 

 

“M’kay,” Sid said, closing his eyes for a second longer before he forced himself out of bed. “ _ Thank you _ .”

 

“ _ You’re welcome, not a problem _ ,” Evgeni said eagerly and left the room, probably to leave Sid to his morning routine. Sid just stood there and stretched for a while longer before he actually started getting ready. When he stepped out down the hall, it seemed like the rest of the house was still asleep. Once he was done getting ready, and stepped out into the kitchen, he found only Evgeni there. He pushed a plate at him. 

 

“Eat,” he said. “ _ Lots of work to do today. _ ” 

 

“ _ Always lots of work _ ,” Sid said, pleased to hear it. Evgeni laughed. 

 

“ _ I want to see how well you can keep up _ ,” he said, sliding into the seat across from Sid and looking at him as if he were trying to pick apart a complicated puzzle. Sid tried not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. 

 

“ _ I can _ ,” he said. “ _ Can you _ ?” 

 

Evgeni laughed again, loud. “Like you already, Sidney Crosby,” he said, and Sid couldn’t not flush at that. 

 

“Y- uh,  _ like you, too _ .” Sid momentarily forgot how to speak. Evgeni just smiled and clapped him on the back. 

 

“ _ Eat fast, _ ” he said, standing. “ _ The quicker we go, the more time we have on the ice before everyone else gets there _ .” 

 

Hockey was always a good motivator, so Sid finished eating very quickly after that, and they were out the door. He was a little better prepared for Evgeni’s action movie approach to driving, even if he was still a little nauseous when they pulled into the parking lot of what he assumed was the team’s practice rink. He took a moment to collect himself as Evgeni got their things from the back of the car, and was recuperated enough to catch his bag when Evgeni tossed it at him, and fall into step beside him. 

 

The rink seemed like it was empty; there was no one in the locker room when they got there, and no one on the ice after Sid skated out. He dawdled a little as Evgeni changed, and only the fact that locker room don’t look-don’t ask protocol was ingrained in his mind from years of practicing it kept him from staring a little. Sid knew very well he sort of had a type, and he knew very well that Evgeni sort of ticked every box on his list- or most of them, anyway. The last few were hockey related, but Sid had no doubt that those were going to be checked off soon enough. 

 

Evgeni was stretching when he came out, though Sid couldn’t really tell what muscles these stretches were supposed to be working. Evgeni had both legs up in the air, spreadeagled, and Sid just stood there and stared for a moment before he was caught, and dropped his gaze in the face of Evgeni’s smile. 

 

“ _ It took you long enough _ ,” Evgeni snorted, not seeming to care about Sid’s staring. He reached out and made grabby hands, which Sid assumed meant he wanted help up, so he offered his hands and pulled him to his feet. 

 

“ _ Still not used to time zone _ ,” Sid lied, shrugging. Evgeni accepted it easily enough, bumping into Sid as he rose before pushing him back playfully. 

 

“ _ We’re going to play a little…  _ keep away _ , _ ” Evgeni said, pausing bit, looking for the right words when he switched to English. “ _ We’ll see how well you can keep up _ .” 

 

“ _ I keep up _ ,” Sid said, and Evgeni smiled and skated off to the side, leaning over the wall of the bench and grabbing a puck from a pile of them. He tossed it down on the ice in the middle of the faceoff circle, and took his position at one end of it, which Sid took as his cue to move to the other end. 

 

“ _ On three?”  _ Evgeni said, and Sid nodded, though he didn’t move his eyes from the puck. “ _ One, two-” _

 

Before Evgeni could get out the first syllable of ‘three’, he was off with the puck. Sid made a distressed noise and took off after him a few seconds later, and even though Evgeni was fast, he caught up to him soon enough. Taking the puck away from him, though, was another story; Evgeni was good- really good, and Sid found himself grinning at the challenge. There were good players, back in juniors, and Sid always liked playing against them most. Evgeni, though, was an entirely different beast, better than pretty much anyone Sid had ever shared the ice with before. 

 

He was definitely ticking the rest of Sid’s boxes. 

 

He pushed the thought from his mind, and refocused himself on getting the puck. He finally managed it, and took off back down the ice, towards the goal farthest from the circle where they’d started. He reared back when he got near it, and he turned to Evgeni with a smirk when the puck slammed into the back of the neck. “ _ I keep up _ ,” he said again, and Evgeni laughed, delighted. 

 

“ _ You kept up, yeah _ ,” he said. “ _ You’re definitely worth all the hype,  _ Sidney Crosby.” 

 

Sid flushed with the compliment, but all he did in reply was skate over to retrieve the puck and put it down in the nearest faceoff circle. “ _ Again _ ,” he said. “ _ This time, no cheat. I count.”  _

 

Evgeni laughed again and skated over. “ _ You count, _ ” he said, bumping Sid with his stick.

 

Sid counted off, and they were flying again. They kept at it for what could have been hours, or moments; Sid couldn’t tell. Evgeni scored, and then Sid scored again, and they went back and forth, keeping an almost even tally. Neither of them wanted to stop while they were behind, and each time the other scored, they’d go ‘again’, and even the score the next round. 

 

Eventually, though, other people started filtering into the rink, stretching and staring at Sid curiously. Evgeni frowned. “ _ My teammates _ ,” he said. “ _ Practice is starting- you can watch, if you want?”  _

 

_ “I’m watch _ ,” Sid said, nodding. 

 

Evgeni smiled at him. “ _ You can watch the best,”  _ he said, bumping him with his stick again. “ _ That way, you’ll have a head start for next time. Maybe you won’t lose so bad, then _ .” 

 

“ _ I  _ won _ ,”  _ Sid squawked, hitting Evgeni back. “ _ You cheat!”  _

 

Evgeni laughed, and he nudged Sid along when one of his teammates skated over to him. Sid took the hint and skated off, ignoring the rapid fire Russian Evgeni and his teammate were firing off behind him and the looks everyone else on the ice was giving him. 

 

The locker room was thankfully empty when Sid got back, and his stuff was untouched. He showered and changed as quickly as he could, and took his stuff out with him to go sit in the stands. He wasn’t used to  _ watching  _ during practice, and it felt a little odd not being on the ice, running drills as the man who he assumed was one of the coaches barked commands, but he was quickly engrossed watching Evgeni move. Watching him, Sid felt like he was watching some kind of dance; people had long joked about him being “hockey-sexual”, just as they’d joked about the ice in his veins, and for the second time since coming to Russia, he was inclined to agree with the jokes- at least, where Evgeni was concerned. 

 

He thankfully managed to control himself and not to anything embarrassing other than stare for most of practice, and every time Evgeni looked up and caught him, all he did was smile and wave. Sid waved back, after the first few times, and stifled laughs at every funny face Evgeni pulled when his teammates’ backs were turned. 

 

He skated up to the glass after everyone was dismissed, and Sid rose to meet him, pressing his hands on the glass to meet Evgeni’s. “ _ Did you learn anything _ ?” Evgeni asked. Sid laughed. 

 

“ _ Learn you play around too much _ ,” he said, and that got a noise of mock offense from Evgeni. “ _ Learned you cheat at faceoff, too, not just keep away _ .” 

 

“So  _ mean _ , Sidney Crosby,” Evgeni said, in English now, but he was smiling. “I’m change, we go home. Game tonight, have little practice. Have to get rest.” 

 

“Game?” Sid asked, his own face lighting up. “Do I- uh,  _ I’m watch? _ ” 

 

“ _ Of course _ ,” Evgeni said quickly. “ _ We’ve gotta show you how real hockey’s played- Russian hockey.” _

 

_ “What wrong with Canada hockey _ ?” Sid asked, wrinkling his nose. 

 

“ _ North American hockey’s too small,”  _ Evgeni said matter-of-factly, and Sid laughed.  _ “You’ll see, Russian hockey’s the best _ .” 

 

“ _ Of course _ ,” Sid said, and Evgeni smiled at him again before he skated off. 

 

Sid waited a little longer for Evgeni to change, staring mostly at the ceiling or his feet to avoid catching the eye of any of Evgeni’s other teammates. He could feel their eyes on him when they passed, and he didn’t even notice how tightly every muscle in his body was wound until Evgeni put his hand on his shoulders and he relaxed. 

 

“ _ Ready to go _ ?” he asked, and Sid nodded quickly, eager to leave. He followed Evgeni out to the car, head still ducked lest anyone was loitering in the parking lot. 

 

Sid was almost relaxed when Evgeni took off this time, happy to be in this car rather than in the rink. At least here, no one was staring. 

 

Sid should be used to staring by now; people had stared at him since almost the first time he stepped foot on the ice, and hadn’t stopped since, but the way Evgeni’s teammates looked at him was different- colder. People had long looked at him like he was the enemy, but they didn’t usually look at him like he was an  _ outsider _ . He felt almost like an alien, standing in the rink without Evgeni making faces at him or chasing him around on the ice.

 

He shoved the feeling down as they pulled back into the driveway of the Malkin’s home. It wasn’t like any of Evgeni’s teammates knew him as anything  _ other  _ than a stranger; Evgeni hadn’t introduced him to anyone- they probably weren’t even sure why he was  _ there _ . 

 

He managed to convince himself that he was being silly by the time they got inside, and Evgeni dropped his things by the door to flop onto the couch. Sid hovered for a moment before Evgeni patted the spot next to him, and he quickly moved to sit down. “ _ Not much else to do, today, _ ” Evgeni said, stretching out and grabbing the television remote, waving it at Sid. “ _ Mostly, I just… relax, until the game _ .” 

 

“ _ I understand,”  _ Sid said, nodding. “ _ I’m same, when I have game. Routine. _ ”

 

“ _ Yes! _ ” Evgeni smiled at him, bumping his shoulder as he turned on the television. He flipped channels for a few moments before he settled on something that looked a lot like a soap opera, to Sid. From what he could catch of the dialogue, the girl on the screen was contemplating killing her twin’s husband- but, then again, it could have been any manner of other things. Sid wasn’t paying much attention to the plot, even though he knew trying to follow the show would probably help his Russian. Instead, almost all of his attention was drawn to the fact that Evgeni was pressed against his side, sitting hip to hip. At some point during the show, he stretched his arm out and laid it across the back of the couch, fingers just barely brushing Sid’s shoulder. Sid thought he was going to combust, just a little. 

 

Another soap opera started up after that one, and then another, and eventually Sid stopped even pretending that he was going to make himself pay attention. Tentatively, he leaned into Evgeni’s side, wondering distantly if he’d lost his mind. He barely knew Evgeni, and this was something he’d never really done with  _ anyone _ ; maybe once, with Jack, on the bus after a long distance away game, but he tried not to psych himself out too much. 

 

Evgeni, for his part, didn’t seem to mind. He just settled his arm more securely around Sid and kept his eyes on the television, seemingly engrossed in whatever was going on in the show. Eventually, Sid let himself relax and settle fully into his side, let his eyes fall shut and his head droop to lay on Evgeni’s shoulder, and let himself drift off. He wasn’t incredibly tired, but his body still hadn’t gotten used to the time, and the workout this morning hadn’t done much to help that. 

 

He was woken up later by Evgeni shaking him, looking at Sid with a smile on his face. “ _ Good morning, _ ” he said, sounding amused. 

 

“ _ Still morning? _ ” Sid asked, sitting up and yawning. 

 

“ _ No,”  _ Evgeni said, laughing a little. “ _ It’s afternoon, now, really- late afternoon. I just didn’t want to wake you up. _ ” 

 

“ _ Should have, _ ” Sid said, rolling his shoulders and stretching. “ _ Didn’t mean to sleep in first place _ .” 

 

Evgeni laughed again. “ _ You talk in your sleep, you know _ .” he said, and Sid froze. 

 

“ _ Sorry _ ,” he mumbled, starting to move away. “ _ My friend always say, I- what did I say?” _

 

_ “Not much,”  _ Evgeni said, trying to sound reassuring. “ _ Not that I could understand, anyway.  _ Talk English, about hockey, I’m think.” 

 

“Oh,” Sid said, relieved. “ _ Sometimes, I talk… weird things _ .  _ Just want to make sure.”  _

 

“ _ Nothing weird,”  _ Evgeni reassured him, standing. “ _ I have to get ready for the game, but, you can still nap, if you need to.” _

 

_ “I’m fine,”  _ Sid said, even as he stifled another yawn.  Evgeni huffed, and smiled at him again. 

 

_ “Everyone else will be home, soon _ ,” he said. “ _ The game’s not til later, but I have a-” _

 

_ “Routine.”  _ Sid said, smiling. “ _ I understand _ ,  _ have one too, remember? _ ” 

 

_ “Talk after game a little, maybe _ ,” Evgeni said, giving Sid one last smile that Sid might’ve read as regretful, if he was letting himself be romantic about it- which he decidedly  _ shouldn’t  _ be, but for a second when Evgeni turned his back, he let himself slip. 

 

There was still a soap opera on, though this one looked vastly different than the others- now, there were people in period clothing, talking in soft voices and looking like they were colluding somehow. This was much more Sid’s speed than modern stories of cheating and twin murder, so he let himself get pulled in as much as he could. He couldn’t understand much of the dialogue, but he got most of the plot, and had been engrossed for several episodes by the time Natalia came home and joined him. 

 

“ _ Did you and Zhenya have fun _ ?” she asked, and even with as nerve wrecking being around so many people had been, Sid’s answer was automatic. 

 

_ “Yes, much fun _ ,” he said, smiling at her. “ _ Always fun, to play. Evgeni’s very good, challenge. _ ” 

 

Natalia smiled, and chuckled a little. “ _ He is very good, yes _ ,” she said, and Sid could hear the pride in her voice. “ _ I’m glad you had fun.”  _

 

“ _ Excited for tonight, game. See him play for real _ ,” Sid said, trying not to sound like he was gushing and probably failing miserably. 

 

Natalia laughed again and nodded. “ _ Zhenya always gives a good game _ ,” she said, and Sid hummed, and that was that. He was surprised by how easy and comfortable it was, sitting there with a practical stranger and watching a show he could barely understand, but there was something about the Malkin house- and, indeed, the people in it- that seemed easy to settle into, like a warm blanket or a familiar bed. 

 

Vladimir and Denis were home after a few more episodes, and it was just about time to leave for Evgeni’s game by then. Sid only found himself getting more and more excited as they drove to the rink; he knew that Russian hockey wasn’t  _ that  _ different from the North American style- a little faster, a little less physical, maybe, but still the same game. He was more excited to see Evgeni play, though;  _ really  _ play, not just chase Sid around a rink or take shots during practice. 

 

Metallurg’s stadium was full by the time they got to their seats, and Sid was happy that they were right next to the glass on the side closest to Metallurg’s bench. That meant Evgeni could see them, and could keeping smile and waving through his pregame stretches. 

 

The Russian anthem played, and Sid stood with the rest of the crowd, though he wasn’t looking to a flag. He was staring straight at Evgeni, who had bowed his head, and was fingering a charm on a chain around his neck. 

 

The anthem ended, and Evgeni tucked the charm back under his jersey, and between one blink and the next, the game had started. The arena was, somehow, impossibly louder than any other stadium Sid had ever played in, but that only made it better; people were on their feet, shouting in streams of angry or encouraging Russian. Sid kept his eyes on Evgeni, tracking him as he moved down the ice- he didn’t have the puck, but Sid couldn’t tear his eyes away from him long enough to track that instead. 

 

It didn’t matter for long, because about a minute into the period, the puck found Evgeni’s stick. He wound through opposing players, and then- 

 

And then Sid was on his feet, too, cheering with the rest of the crowd, because the puck had found the back of the net. Evgeni glided on one leg for a second, pumping his fists in celebration, and Sid couldn’t help but be a little breathless when Evgeni’s eyes found his across the crowd, before he was blocked off by a barrage of excited teammates. 

 

That wasn’t the last time Evgeni got a point that night; he tacked on another goal and two assists. Sid thought that his face was going to be frozen in place with how much he was grinning by the time it was over. It was a solid win for Metallurg, 4-1, and Sid couldn’t help but be a little proud. 

 

“ _ You were amazing, _ ” he made sure to tell Evgeni when he came out of the locker room to see his family. Evgeni’s face was flushed, and his hair was shower-wet and sticking up at all angles, and Sid tried his best not to find it endearing and failed. 

 

Evgeni grinned, and shrugged. “ _ I’m the best, I told you _ ,” he said, and Sid laughed even as Denis rolled his eyes. 

 

“ _ Stupidest doesn’t mean best, Zhenya _ ,” he said, and Evgeni stuck his tongue out at him. 

 

“ _ Are you going out? _ ” Natalia asked. Evgeni paused, looking back at the locker room for a second, and then back out to his family and Sid. 

 

“ _ I think I’m just coming home tonight, _ ” he said slowly, and the look on the rest of his family’s face let Sid know that this wasn’t the usual response. “ _ It was a hard game tonight, and I’ve still got practice tomorrow, so... _ ” 

 

“ _ Whatever you say, _ ” Natalia said, and Evgeni just smiled at her. 

 

Sid rode with Evgeni on the ride home, and was proud to find that he was only a little queasy when they pulled into the driveway this time, beating the rest of the Malkins there. 

 

“ _ Did you have fun _ ?” Evgeni asked as they were getting out of the car. 

 

Sid nodded enthusiastically. “ _ Fast game _ ,” he said. “ _ Very fun _ .” 

 

“ _ I told you, Russian hockey’s the best. _ ” Evgeni said, sticking his key in the lock and stepping aside so Sid could go in first. He turned the light on in the living room, and flopped down on the couch again. “ _ Stay up with me a bit _ ?  _ Everyone in this house goes to bed so  _ early  _ after games. _ ” 

 

Sid was a little tired, but he knew the feeling of being keyed up after a game well enough to know that it was nice, sometimes, to have company- and he had a feeling he had at least a little to do with the reason Evgeni wasn’t out with his team right now, so he just nodded and sat down, settling in as Evgeni turned the TV on again. This time, he set it to what Sid gathered was the Russian version of a late-night talk show, and he threw the arm holding the remote over the back of the couch again as soon as he’d settled himself. 

 

The rest of the Malkins came in not long after, and true to Evgeni’s word, said their goodnights and almost immediately went off to bed. Denis hovered for a bit, looking like he had something to say before Evgeni glared at him long enough that he went away. As soon as Denis had rounded the corner, Evgeni’s arm dropped from the back of the couch to around Sid’s shoulders, and Sid’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t say anything, just scooted closer and settled into Evgeni’s side like he had earlier, and Evgeni made a pleased noise in the back of his throat- whether it was at him or the segment the talk-show host seemed to be doing on puppies, Sid wasn’t sure, but he made one in response, and that was that. 

 

After a while, Sid’s eyelids started to droop, and he tried to fight it, but he was really too tired to do much about it. He sighed, and leaned more heavily into Evgeni’s side, promising himself that he’d only doze off for a second even though he knew that he was probably lying. Later, he woke up a little and remembered feeling like he was flying for a few moments before he touched down on something soft, and his feet being cold before something warm was wrapped around him before he was pulled back under. 

 

He woke up the next morning, shoes sitting on the floor beside his bed and his blankets tucked up around him, and flushed when he realized that Evgeni must have carried him to bed. He definitely owed him for that one. 

 

It was awhile longer before Evgeni came to get Sid for practice, and other than a brief comment about how “is second time you fall asleep on couch, Sidney Crosby”, he didn’t say anything, and Sid figured the situation was forgiven. 

 

Practice that day was much like the last, and so was the next day, until it became the routine. They’d play keep away and run drills until Evgeni’s teammates came in for practice, and then Sid would go change out and watch the rest. After practice, Evgeni would drive them home, and they’d sit on the couch and watch soap operas that Sid was getting better and better at following, and Evgeni would pull Sid close to his side without comment as they watched, until Natalia came home, and they’d either help her with errands and chores, or she’d take Evgeni’s place and talk to Sid until it was time to leave for Evgeni’s game, depending on the night. 

 

The routine was altered slightly the day Moscow’s Dynamo came to town; Metallurg had a short morning skate, and Evgeni looked like he was in a hurry to leave as soon as the coach said that they were free to go. 

 

He was the first one out of the locker room, and said nothing as he put a hand in the small of Sid’s back and started pushing him towards the exit, looking furtively behind him. “ _ Something wrong _ ?” Sid asked, concerned. 

 

“ _ No, is fine _ ,” Evgeni said, though his tone was too anxious for that to be true. “ _ Just- Dynamo practice after, and I want to get out of here before-” _

 

_ “Zhenya _ !” Sid heard someone cry from across the stadium. Evgeni cursed and stopped moving, sighing as he turned around. 

 

“ _ Sasha, _ ” he said, and Sid turned around to see another boy their age grinning at Evgeni as he pulled him into a hug. 

 

“ _ Don’t tell me you were going to leave without saying hello _ ,” Sasha said, pretending to pout a little. “ _ Especially when you have an interesting friend with you _ !”

 

Sid frowned at the mention of him, but he didn’t get to say anything before Sasha pulled him into a hug, too, and then a handshake. “ _ Alexander Ovechkin _ ,” Sasha said, and the name clicked in Sid’s mind as at least vaguely familiar. “ _ But, friends call me Sasha- and, we’re going to be friends, so _ .” 

 

“ _ He doesn’t want to be your friend _ ,” Evgeni snorted, stepping between Sid and Sasha, which Sid was overwhelmingly grateful for. 

 

“ _ Better my friend than yours _ ,” Sasha shot back, but he was still smiling at Sid when he said it. “ _ Are you coming to the game? _ ”

 

“I, uh-  _ yes _ ?” Sid said, not knowing why he was unsure. He’d gone to every home game Metallurg had had for the few weeks he’d been there. Something about Sasha made him nervous, though, and threw him off kilter. 

 

“ _ Good. You’ll have a little bit of an advantage, seeing how your future rival plays _ ,” Sasha said, and Sid just blinked at him dumbly. 

 

“ _ Sasha thinks he’s going to be an NHL star one day _ ,” Evgeni snorted, rolling his eyes. 

 

“ _ I  _ know  _ I’m going to be an NHL star _ ,” Sasha corrected. “ _ And so is he, so it’s good we get to know each other, now _ .  _ We can go out, after Dynamo wins; I’m sure I can show you a better time than Zhenya has been _ .” 

 

“ _ I’ve been showing him a  _ great  _ time,”  _ Evgeni said, and Sid flushed at the way he made it sound. Sasha leered, and Evgeni seemed to figure it out, too, and a bit of color rose to his cheeks, too. “ _ And I’m not letting him go anywhere with you.”  _

 

“ _ Sidney Crosby can go wherever he wants, _ ” Sasha said. 

“ _ Already going out with Evgeni _ ,” Sid said after a brief pause where Evgeni and Sasha both stared at him. “ _ After Metallurg win _ ,” he added, a little proud, and Evgeni grinned. 

 

“ _ So wrong, Sidney Crosby _ ,”  Sasha sighed, shaking his head.  _ “It’s okay _ ,  _ though _ ;  _ I’ll show you tonight- and, if I win, I’m taking you out. How’s that?”  _ His smile was challenging now, and- well. Sid had never backed down from a challenge before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

 

_ “Evgeni will win _ ,” he said, stepping forward. “ _ So, won’t be a problem. _ ” 

 

“ _ It’s a deal, then _ ,” Sasha said, sticking out his hand. Sid shook it before Evgeni could put himself in between them. Evgeni made a pained noise, and grabbed Sid by the shoulder, steering him away again. 

 

“ _ See you tonight, Sidney Crosby! _ ” Sasha called after them. Sid didn’t say anything back, just kept walking until they were out in the parking lot, and then to the car. 

 

“ _ You’re crazier than I thought you were, _ ” Evgeni finally said when they were on their way home. “ _ Making a bet with Sasha- that’s  _ insane;  _ you know he’ll actually drag you out somewhere, if they win _ .” 

 

“ _ They won’t win _ ,” Sid said. “ _ You will, and then… you drag me out somewhere. _ ” 

 

Evgeni frowned, and looked at him in the rearview mirror. “ _ What do you mean _ ?”

 

Sid paused, biting his lip before he went on. “ _ You never go out with friends- not since I’m come, _ ” he said. “ _ And I know you want, so- you win, go out with team. I come with, if is okay _ .” 

 

“ _ If you wanted to come out, you could have just said so _ ,” Evgeni said, smiling. “ _ Fine. If we win, and you don’t have to pay up on your stupid bed with Sasha, I’ll take you out with the team _ .” 

 

Sid grinned at him. “ _ Deal _ .” 

 

Evgeni laughed, and the afternoon was mostly back to normal after that. They watched their soap operas on the couch, but there was a distinct air of looming tension that didn’t dissipate when Natalia came home. Evgeni dawdled a bit, looking to Sid every time he passed through the living room as he gathered his things, and eventually Natalia had to shoo him away so that he wouldn’t be scratched for being late. “ _ Did something happen today _ ?” she asked when she sat down beside him. Sid shook his head, and then reconsidered it. 

 

“ _ Met Alexander Ovechkin _ ,” he said. Natalia hummed knowingly; apparently, that had been all he needed to say. 

 

“ _ That explains it _ ,” she said, and that was that.

 

Evgeni usually looked at Sid during warmups, skating up and making faces, trying to show off and make Sid laugh. He didn’t do any of that that night, though; he seemed laser focused during his warmups and stretches, not looking towards Sid or the rest of his family. Ovechkin, though, kept looking over, grinning at Sid from across the ice and even going so far as tossing one of the pucks up and over the glass for Sid. Sid gave him a weak smile, and when he looked back up, Evgeni was finally looking at him- and he didn’t look happy. 

  
Sasha noticed too, and he laughed, winking at Sid before turning around and waving at Evgeni before he skated back over to his side. 

When the anthem played, Sid thought that was the end of it, but instead of closing his eyes like he usually did, Evgeni was staring straight at Sid as the game started, a determined glint in his eye that made Sid shiver despite himself. 

 

When the whistle blew, Evgeni was off like a rocket, first man on the puck and pushing it down into Dynamo’s zone like his life depended on it, dodging player after player. Sid was on his feet already, hands pressed to the glass and breath caught in his throat as he watched Sasha just on Evgeni’s tail. He stretched like he was going for the puck, but he was just a half second too late as it sailed past him and into the back of the net. 

 

“ _ Yeah!”  _ Sid yelled, and Evgeni skated to him before his team ever got over, grinning at him as he swept past and then back to the action. There was something predatory behind it that told Sid that, whatever happened next, this was going to be a fucking  _ good _ game. 

 

The next goal was Sasha’s, and the one after that was someone else on Metallurg’s- it went back and forth like that the whole game, and by the time the end of the second period, both Sasha and Evgeni had two goals and a few assists to their name, and the game was tied 5-5.

 

There was one minute left in the third, and Sid hadn’t sat the whole game, and felt like he hadn’t breathed either. Neither Metallurg nor Dynamo had scored in the past ten minutes, but not for lack of trying on either side. 

 

Thirty seconds left, and the puck found Evgeni’s stick again, and Sid  _ definitely  _ wasn’t breathing as he pushed down the ice, almost every one of Dynamo’s players on his tail. He dodged one, dodged two- didn’t dodge Sasha, but ran him into the board a second after he stole the puck and got it back, and Sasha didn’t recover fast enough for him to stop Evgeni from getting the puck back and taking off again. 

 

Ten seconds left, and Evgeni was back in Dynamo’s zone. Sid’s heart was roaring in his ears like  _ he  _ was the one on the ice. 

 

Five seconds. Four, three, two—Evgeni dodged a Dynamo defenseman, and he shot the puck. 

 

The goal horn rang, and a second later, the buzzer; 6-5, Metallurg, and a hattrick for Evgeni. Sid tossed his own hat with the others, banging on the glass as Evgeni skated his way, grinning. “ _ Best! _ ” Sid yelled, and Evgeni seemed to hear him over the crowd, because his grin got impossibly wider. 

 

Sid didn’t stop smiling the whole time he was waiting for Evgeni outside the locker room, though his nerves did resurface. He’d never been one for partying, and he had no idea what kind of place Evgeni was going to take him to. 

 

He didn’t get long to worry, though, because Evgeni walked back out with a trail of laughing teammates, and automatically threw an arm around his shoulder and grinned. “ _ This is Sidney _ ,” he said. “ _ He’s staying with me, trying to learn from the best. Canadian hockey got too boring for him _ .” 

 

Evgeni’s teammates laughed, and Sid just smiled and let Evgeni steer him out of the arena and out to the car, waiting patiently as he hollered across the lot to his teammates before getting in. “ _ Good game _ ,” Sid said, and Evgeni laughed. 

 

“ _ Good game, great night _ ,” he said, and it sounded dangerously close to a promise. Sid smiled, and settled back against the seat when Evgeni took off, unafraid and almost excited. 

 

Sid realized before they’d even parked that Evgeni had taken him to some kind of club, and he tried not to look like he was scared shitless about it as he got out of the car. Evgeni was surrounded by a ring of his teammates again, laughing and talking at a pace that Sid could barely follow. Evgeni kept a hand on the small of his back, probably just to steer him towards the door, but unintentionally anchoring Sid, too. He relaxed a bit into Evgeni’s touch. 

 

That bit of relaxation was almost immediately undone when they stepped through the doors of the club, and he was hit with the flashing lights and pounding music full force. The club seemed like it was about to burst with people, every inch of what Sid assumed was the dancefloor covered with people. Some of Evgeni’s teammates made a beeline for it, but Evgeni just steered Sid towards one of the few empty seats at the bar and leaned on the counter beside him, calling something out to the bartender that Sid figured was a drink order. 

 

“You party lots, at home?” Evgeni yelled over the music, and Sid was glad he did so in English; he wasn’t sure if he could understand Russian very well over everything else going on at the moment. 

 

“Not really!” he called back. “Always busy with hockey!” 

 

Evgeni frowned. “Never go out with friends, team, after games?”

 

Sid shook his head, and Evgeni got a determined look in his eye. “I show you how is done,” he promised, smiling at the bartender as he set down two shot glasses in front of them. He took one for himself, and offered the other one to Sid. “Drink!”

 

Sid hesitated for a moment. He didn’t drink often, as a personal rule- maybe once or twice, with his dad, but…. 

 

But Sid was in Russia, and when in Russia, he supposed he’d better do as the Russians did. He smiled at Evgeni, and raised his glass. Evgeni did the same, and they both drank, Sid almost gagging and spitting up the drink entirely. Evgeni must have noticed, because he laughed and patted Sid on the shoulder, gesturing to the bartender to give them another round. “You get used to taste,” he said, and Sid gave him a weak smile. 

 

Sid wasn’t so sure about getting  _ used  _ to the taste, but after a few drinks he was drunk enough that it didn’t really matter. Evgeni had to keep him from slipping off of his seat once, and after that Sid just decided that standing would be better for him. Eventually, some of Evgeni’s teammates wandered back from the dancefloor, but he kept most of his attention on Sid, which made something warm start to curl in the pit of Sid’s stomach that he was sure had very little to do with the alcohol. 

 

“You want dance?” Evgeni asked after a while, when his friends had disappeared out into the crowd again. Sid bit his lip, considering it; he probably should say no, because he wasn’t entirely sure he could coordinate himself well enough to dance when he was sober, much less when he was drunk- but the idea of potentially having Evgeni closer to him was a bit too tempting for him to resist while he had his defenses down like this. 

 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Yeah, I want.” 

 

Evgeni smiled back at him. Sid was probably more than a little surprised than he should be when Evgeni took his hand and dragged him towards the dancefloor. Sid stumbled when Evgeni stopped suddenly, falling back against his chest. Evgeni’s hands dropped from his hands to his hips, pulling Sid back so that his back was pressed flush to Evgeni’s front. “Not dance a lot at home, either?” Evgeni asked. His voice was right in Sid’s ear, now, and Sid couldn’t help but go a little boneless. 

 

“No,” he said, letting his eyes fall shut. The music felt distant, and even though they were surrounded by people, Sid felt like it was just them. “Never.”   
  


“Not take girls out?” Evgeni asked, starting to move a little with the music and Sid instinctively followed. 

 

“No girls,” he said, a little more breathless than he’d intended. Evgeni laughed.    
  


“Take boys out?” he asked, voice lower now, face pressed into Sid’s neck. There was more weight to the words this time, Sid could feel it. 

 

“Never done it before now, no,” he said, and he could feel Evgeni’s gasp more than hear it. 

 

“Like it?” Evgeni asked, sounding unsure now. 

 

Sid’s heart fluttered, and he leaned his head back against Evgeni’s chest for a moment, still swaying, before he answered. “I like you, yeah.” 

 

He could feel Evgeni exhale, and then smile, fingers digging into Sid’s hips as they moved. “Like you, too,” he said. “Like you since first day you get here, but not know if okay to say.” 

 

“It’s definitely okay,” Sid breathed, opening his eyes to finally look at Evgeni. If he turned his head the right way, Evgeni’s face was right there, and he could-

 

Suddenly, Evgeni pushed him away, and Sid bit down on a confused, hurt sound when he saw one of Evgeni’s teammates pushing through the crowd. “ _ Score three goals tonight, and suddenly you’re shy,”  _ he slurred, and Evgeni smiled at him. “ _ Come on, Zhenya, stop hiding out with your North American-“  _ He said something here that Sid didn’t understand, but it made Evgeni laugh, so Sid figured it wasn’t that bad. 

 

“ _ I’m already drunk enough _ ,” he huffed, shaking his head. “ _ And, I think Sid’s about to fall over. Time to go home.”  _

 

Evgeni’s teammate rolled his eyes. “ _ When did you get so  _ lame _ , Zhenya?”  _ he asked, and Evgeni shrugged. He rolled his eyes again.  _ “Fine. I’ll tell everyone else you had to babysit _ .” 

 

“ _ See you at practice _ ,” Evgeni said, stepping forward and putting his hand on the small of Sid’s back again, pushing him through the crowd and out the door. 

 

Evgeni didn’t say anything when they got in the car, and Sid had sobered a bit on the walk back, cold air and leftover anxiety from almost being caught shocking his system. He turned, meaning to ask whether or not Evgeni was alright, but before he could, Evgeni reached over the gear shift and took his hand, squeezing it. 

 

“Talk in morning,” he promised. “Tonight is… lots of feelings. Talk in morning.” 

 

“Okay,” Sid said, squeezing his hand back. That was how they stayed the whole ride back home, until they had to draw apart to go inside. They walked in silence, all the way back to Sid’s bedroom, and Sid grabbed Evgeni’s hand before he could walk away. 

 

“Stay,” he said. His voice was quiet, but it seemed like it echoed in the silence of the rest of the house. 

 

“You very drunk,” Evgeni sighed, trying to pull his hands away. “Trust me, any other time I come in, and I’m make you feel good, but-”

 

Sid blinked, and then flushed. “Oh, no,” he said quickly, maybe a little too loud. He dropped his voice again. “No, I don’t mean— I just. I want you to lay down with me, otherwise, I think… I think I’ll think this is a dream. We don’t have to… do anything.” 

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Evgeni flushed a little, too, and bit his lip. “We have to wake up early, but… I’m stay.” 

 

“Good,” Sid said, but he frowned when Evgeni kept trying to pull away. 

 

“I’m have to go change, if you’re want me to sleep good,” Evgeni said when Sid didn’t let go. “Back soon, promise.” 

 

Sid still frowned, but he let Evgeni go and backed into his room to get ready himself. He was just climbing into bed when Evgeni came back. They just looked at each other for a while before Evgeni cleared his throat. 

 

“I’m sleep on that side,” he said, pointing to the side of the bed Sid was trying to get in on, and Sid just blinked at him for a moment before he stepped back. He’d always slept on that side too, but he’d also rather not have to fight Evgeni for it and have him not stay after all. 

 

“All yours,” he said, smiling softly, and he thought he saw some tension drain from Evgeni’s shoulders as he smiled at him and moved to lay down. 

 

Sid went around to the other side of the bed and slid in, and there was another awkward half minute where neither of them moved, or looked at each other, and the only sound in the room being both of their breathing. Geno’s sigh broke the silence, though, and he reached out for Sid, wrapping his arms around his waist and tugging him closer, so that Sid’s back was pressed to his front again. 

 

It took Sid a moment to relax, but when he did, he turned around in Evgeni’s arms and laid his head on his chest. He could hear Evgeni’s heartbeat going wild, but, steadily, it settled in time with Sid’s breathing. Sid smiled, and pressed his face into Evgeni’s chest and inhaled. 

 

“ _ Goodnight _ ,” he said, and that was as much Russian as he could manage for the evening. 

 

Evgeni squeezed his waist, and Sid could practically feel his smiled, “ _ Goodnight, Sidney Crosby.”  _

 

Sid yawned, and let his eyes fall shut. He felt warm, and safe, and like he was really at home for the first time since leaving. 

 

When he woke up in the morning, Sid’s head was pounding, and his mouth felt like something had died in it. He groaned and rolled over, trying to press his face deeper into his pillows, only to feel how warm said pillow was and come to the stark realization that it wasn’t a pillow at all. 

 

He sat up quickly, and immediately regretted it, groaning loudly as he laid back down and grabbed an actual pillow to cover his face with. 

 

There were a few muffled sounds from beside him that Sid tried to drown out until he heard faint laughter, and he drew the pillow away from his face to glare at Evgeni. “ _ Good morning,”  _ he said, the smarmy bastard. Sid made an unintelligible noise that was supposed to be ‘fuck you’ and only made Evgeni laugh again. “ _ How do you feel _ ?” 

 

“ _ Feel like die,”  _ Sid whined, and Evgeni hummed with false sympathy. 

 

“ _ Poor Sidney Crosby _ ,” he cooed, putting a hand on Sid’s cheek. “ _ Is this your first hangover _ ?” 

 

Sid glared at him again, but nodded. Evgeni laughed, and patted his cheek. “ _ Stay here,”  _ he said. “ _ I’ll get something to help.”  _

 

Sid was reluctant to let Evgeni go, but he also wasn’t so keen on sitting there feeling like death all day. He frowned as he watched Evgeni go, but closed his eyes as soon as the door closed behind him, trying to shut out the light. He wasn’t sure who was in charge of making the sun so bright that morning, but he was sure as hell going to have to find out so he could kick their ass. 

 

When Evgeni came back, it was with tea that he insisted on holding as Sid drank, like Sid was genuinely sick and not just reaping the fruits of the last night’s celebrations. Sid was happy with the attention, though, and he did definitely feel better after a finishing whatever kind of tea that had been. 

 

“ _ Last night _ ,” he said after a few moments of them just sitting on the bed in silence. “ _ You say we talk in morning, about feelings. _ ”

 

Evgeni frowned and sighed, twisting his lips up into something between a frown and grimace. “ _ It’s… a lot,”  _ he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “ _ A lot of feelings. _ ”

 

“ _ I’m having time,”  _ Sid said stubbornly, straightening his shoulders and looking at Evgeni head on. 

 

Evgeni laughed and gave him a thin smile. “ _ I like you _ ,” he started. “ _ I told you that much last night; you’re pretty, and talented, and nice, and… you’re good to be around. Better than almost anyone else I know, and I’ve only known you for a month. _ ” 

 

Sid flushed at the compliments, each one turning his face a darker shade of red. “ _ I like you, too _ ,” he said. “ _ More than anyone else I ever know _ .” 

 

Evgeni flushed too, and his smile got wider. He reached out and took Sid’s hand as he went on, threading their fingers together. “ _ I didn’t realize how  _ much  _ I liked you, until Sasha came along _ ,” he said, half laughing. “ _ We wouldn’t… we couldn’t date, like normal people would- not here. Russia isn’t good, for people like me, and I…”  _

 

_ “Understand _ ,” Sid said, squeezing his hand. “ _ We not have to do anything, if you’re not feel safe. _ ” 

 

“ _ I want to, though _ ,” Evgeni said quickly. “ _ I want  _ you _ , very badly _ .” That made Sid’s breath hitch, and he didn’t get long to recover, before Evgeni went on. “ _ So… we’d have to keep it a secret, but…” _

 

“ _ Yes,”  _ Sid said quickly, even though he wasn’t too sure what he was agreeing to. “ _ Yes. Yes, I want you, too _ .” 

 

“ _ You’re so sweet, Sidney Crosby _ ,” Evgeni cooed, cupping his cheek with his free hand again. “ _ Too sweet _ .” 

 

“ _ Sid _ ,” Sid said. “ _ Call me Sid. _ ” 

 

“ _ Sid _ ,” Evgeni echoed, nodding. “ _ You should call me Zhenya, then _ .” 

 

“ _ Zhenya _ ,” Sid said, trying to replicate the way he’d heard everyone else say it. His accent made the name sound a little wrong, like it did every other Russian word he tried, but Evgeni still smiled. 

 

“ _ That’s the best sound I’ve ever heard _ ,” he mumbled, and Sid still hadn’t gotten his breath back from earlier when Evgeni stole it again by leaning in to kiss him. 

 

It wasn’t Sid’s first kiss, but he could also count the ones before this on one hand, and even if his breath probably smelled like roadkill and there was still half a headache pounding behind his eyes as he closed them and kissed back, it was still the best kiss Sid had ever had. He leaned forward, drawing his hand away from Evgeni’s-  _ Zhenya _ ’s so that he could wrap his arms around his neck, leaning almost fully into his lap. 

 

He made an indecent noise when Zhenya bit his lip and pulled away, both of them grinning at each other. “Have to go to practice, still,” he said, sighing, and Sid frowned. “But, short practice, since we win last night. And after, we can come back, do this again.” 

 

“Promise?” Sid said, hopeful. Zhenya laughed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

 

“Promise, Sid.” 

 

They kept on smiling at each other as they ate breakfast, and Zhenya held his hand over the gearshift on their way to practice, and Sid couldn’t recall ever feeling giddier in his life. He’d never really dated anyone, back home; it had always been labelled as just one of those things he couldn’t worry about, while he was playing. He’d seen his teammates with their girlfriends, and he’d never really understood the goofy looks or constant touching- now, though, he definitely did. 

 

Zhenya seemed to be putting even more effort into showing off for Sid at practice than he normally did, passing pucks and scoring scrimmage goals in increasingly absurd ways until his coach got exasperated and ended practice and Sid was left sitting in the stands, trying not to giggle. Zhenya grinned at him when he came out of the locker room, hip checking Sid as they walked through the parking lot and sticking his tongue out at him. 

 

“ _ Keep being rude, _ ” Sid said, faux pouting. “ _ See if I’m kiss you when get home _ .” 

 

“ _ Sid _ ,” Zhenya said, almost whining. “ _ You don’t have to be  _ mean.” 

 

Sid hummed, but he couldn’t keep from smiling at him, breaking character. “ _ Drive fast _ ,” he said, and Zhenya did; even with how used to his driving Sid was, he still had to hold onto the door to keep himself from flying forward. 

 

He just laughed when he got out of the car, though, and let Zhenya chase him inside. He caught Sid when he got through the threshold, wrapping his arms around Sid’s middle and picking him up. Sid wasn’t a light guy, and the fact that Zhenya could pick him up at all was more than impressive, but he didn’t say any of that. He was far too caught up in his own giddiness to do anything but laugh as Zhenya carried him back to his room. The sheets were still mussed from that morning, and they fell right back into them, Zhenya throwing Sid onto the bed on his back, and crawling up the bed and kissing Sid before he could catch his breath again. 

 

“ _ Need to stop stealing my air _ ,” Sid murmured when they pulled back to breathe, smiling back up at Zhenya. Zhenya just laughed and kissed him again. 

 

When they pulled back again, Zhenya’s lips were kiss-stained red, and Sid admired his handiwork for a full five seconds before Zhenya dropped back down again, kissing along Sid’s jaw and down his neck, making Sid gasp and arch in a way that he’d be embarrassed about if his dignity hadn’t vacated him as soon as his back hit the bed. 

 

“ _ So pretty _ ,” Zhenya breathed, face pressed into the nape of Sid’s neck. Sid could feel him smiling. “ _ Are you sure you don’t have some Canadian girl back home, waiting for you? _ ” 

 

Sid almost laughed at the suggestion. “ _ Most sure, _ ” he said, and added “ _ No boy, either _ .” 

 

“ _ Then every Canadian must be blind, _ ” Zhenya huffed, and Sid laughed. 

 

“ _ Not all of them _ ,” he said, pushing his hands under Zhenya’s shirt and running them down his sides. Zhenya snorted, and pressed his face further into Sid’s neck, humming. 

 

“ _ Just all of them that don’t see you the way I do _ ,” he amended, and Sid laughed again. His stomach did a few flips at Zhenya’s words, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what they meant; it was sweet, but Zhenya had barely known him for more than a month, and Sid wasn’t sure exactly how much he could say he  _ knew  _ about him. They’d talked, a lot, and played a lot together, but it wasn’t like Sid had spilled his every secret to Zhenya or anything. 

 

It was nice to think that he could, though; that he could tell Zhenya anything, everything, and Zhenya would listen, and know, and still care about Sid, still want him like this. He closed his eyes and sighed, hands stilling on Zhenya’s sides as he thought about it. 

 

He maybe couldn’t do it  _ now _ , when there was already this much new territory to be explored, and he was scared of scaring Zhenya off, but- someday, when they knew each other better, and this was less of a new thrill, he could, and Zhenya could do the same. It wouldn’t be so hard then, Sid figured; they’d already know so much, really, that even the biggest secrets or admissions wouldn’t feel so big. 

 

“ _ Hey, _ ” Zhenya said, bumping the side of Sid’s neck like a cat demanding attention. “ _ Are you okay? _ ”

 

“ _ Fine, _ ” Sid said, opening his eyes again. “ _ Just… thinking.” _

 

“ _ You think too much _ ,” Zhenya said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and sitting up again, looking at Sid with an expression that Sid could only describe as enamored. “ _ You never stop, huh _ ?” 

 

“ _ It’s hard to _ ,” Sid admitted, half shrugging and dropping his gaze. 

 

“ _ Bet I can stop it, _ ” Zhenya hummed, dropping back down to hover over Sid, grinning impishly with his tongue between his teeth. Sid laughed. 

 

“ _ Not bet against you, _ ” he said.  _ “Because, I’m know you can. _ ”

 

Zhenya snorted and pressed a kiss to Sid’s forehead. “ _ Damn right _ .” 

 

Sid dragged Zhenya back down, and they kissed for what might’ve been a half hour more before Zhenya started pulling away. 

 

“ _ Everyone else is going to be home, soon _ ,” he said, somewhat mournfully. “ _ We should go back out _ .” 

 

_ “Do we have to _ ?” Sid knew he was whining like a kid who was just told to put up his toys and go to bed, but he felt a little like one. He didn’t  _ want  _ to have to go back out there, and pretend that he hadn’t just spent the afternoon kissing Zhenya and feeling weightless. 

 

“ _ I wish we didn’t, _ ” Zhenya sighed, smiling ruefully before rolling off of the bed and offering a hand to Sid. “ _ I promise, we can do this more tomorrow, when we have the house to ourselves again _ .” 

 

Sid sighed, but he took Zhenya’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Zhenya just stood there for a moment though, facing Sid and frowning. “ _ You might want to change your shirt before we go out there, though _ ,” he said eventually, a small, smug smile slipping through. “ _ Or, everyone’s going to know  _ you’ve  _ been up to something. _ ” 

 

Sid frowned, and let go of Zhenya’s hand to go down the hall a bit and look at himself in the bathroom mirror. They weren’t dark, or super obvious, but there were definite bruises along the side of his neck and down his collar where Zhenya had been kissing him. Sid sighed, and he heard Zhenya laugh from somewhere behind him. He turned around, and glared at him accusingly. “ _ You’re do on purpose. _ ”

 

“ _ A little _ ,” Zhenya admitted, still smug. “ _ But, it suits you. _ ”

 

Sid flushed, and couldn’t bite back a smile. He could already tell that staying mad at Zhenya was going to be a problem. “ _ Asshole _ ,” Sid said- or, he assumed that’s what he said; he’s heard Zhenya and Denis throw the word back and forth a few times with feeling, so he figured he was at least getting the heart of the word right. Zhenya was still grinning as he muscled past him back to the bedroom too, so he hadn’t insulted him too terribly. “ _ Go sit, I’m have to change now _ .” 

 

“ _ It’s a real shame _ ,” Zhenya called after him, and Sid rolled his eyes before he closed the door behind him and set to pulling a hoodie that he figured would cover the marks well enough. He took a few moments to pull himself together before he went back out to the living room and sat on the couch with Zhenya. He was glad that it was beyond normal for them to be found leaning on one another now, because he didn’t think that he’d be able to make himself sit on the other end of the couch from Zhenya right now, even if the whole Malkin family strolled in and brought half of Russia with them. 

 

In the end, it was just Natalia showing up at her usual time with Denis in tow and smiling at them as Sid pretended to be interested in the show on the television instead of the fact that Zhenya’s hand was resting on the back of his neck. Denis pauses in the threshold as he passed them, eyes narrowing suspiciously, zeroing in on Zhenya’s hand. Sid tried not to stiffen up. 

 

“ _ Take a picture, it’ll last longer _ ,” Zhenya said after a moment, huffing and rolling his eyes. Denis frowned and flipped him off, but he left, which meant Sid could relax against Zhenya’s side again. 

 

“ _ Don’t think he likes me _ ,” Sid sighed quietly, not looking at Zhenya when he said it. Zhenya huffed. 

 

“ _ Denis is just an asshole, Sid, don’t worry _ ,” he said, squeezing his shoulder. “ _ If he doesn’t like you he’s stupid _ .” 

 

Sid hummed noncommittally, but wasn’t sure that was necessarily true. They both got called into the kitchen to help Natalia with dinner not long after that though, so Sid made himself focus on that instead, even if he could feel Denis’ eyes on him as he moved around the kitchen. 

 

Denis stopped staring when they sat down for dinner, but that was mostly because Zhenya was glaring at him instead, and he got distracted glaring back. Sid tried his best to keep his head bowed and answer Natalia and Vladimir’s questions about his day, and he was definitely relieved once Denis finished eating and excused himself from the table. Zhenya looked a little smug as he sat back in his chair, obviously taking that as meaning he had won whatever argument they’d been having with their eyes, and Sid was a little too scared to make himself think about asking what it had been about. 

 

Sid excused himself not long after, heading back to his room. He was just finishing changing into his sleep clothes when there was a knock on his door. He tried to fight a grin, just in case he was wrong, but he couldn’t help but smile when he saw that he was right and Zhenya was standing there. 

 

“ _ Can I come in _ ?” Zhenya asked, and Sid nodded, stepping back and closing the door behind him. As soon as he turned back around, though, Zhenya dragged him in by his waist and kissed him. 

 

“ _ I just wanted to say goodnight _ ,” he said when they pulled back for air, and Sid’s smile got even wider. 

 

“ _ Goodnight, Zhenya _ ,” he said, half laughing. 

 

“ _ If we get up early, we’ll have a little more time on the ice to skate, tomorrow _ ,” Zhenya said, wrapping his arms more tightly around Sid’s waist, obviously not wanting to leave just yet. Sid couldn’t blame him; he’d much rather keep Zhenya here again than let him go back to his own room, and leave Sid with a cold, empty bed. 

 

“ _ Wake me up early, then _ ,” Sid hummed, settling his head on Zhenya’s chest for a moment before he pulled away. 

 

“ _ It’s going to be  _ very  _ early _ ,” he said, and he pressed another kiss to the top of Sid’s head before he fully let him go. “ _ Sweet dreams, Sid. _ ”

 

“ _ Goodnight _ ,” Sid said again, and he just kept smiling at Zhenya until he was out of the room and the door was closed behind him. Then, Sid got into bed and smiled at the ceiling. He surely hadn’t been thinking about getting a boyfriend on this trip, but he wasn’t at all upset that that was what had happened. 

 

There was a colder voice, somewhere in the back of his head, that reminded him that this was all probably temporary. He was going back to Canada in a matter of months, and to the NHL after that, and there was little guarantee- and, honestly, not even a promising degree of hope- that he’d ever see Zhenya again. 

 

He pushed that aside for the time being, though; he didn’t often just get to have things for himself. He hadn’t been able to consider dating, back at Shattuck, or even in Rimouski, because everyone was watching him there, and there was the ever-looming threat of him slipping up somehow, and an entire lifetime of work and sacrifice on his part and his parents’ being for naught. If Sid didn’t make it to the NHL- well. If Sid didn’t make it to the NHL, he wasn’t entirely sure that his entire  _ life  _ wouldn’t be for naught. 

 

Here, though? No one was really watching him, in Russia; with exception of Ovechkin, no one had recognized him, and the only people who really asked him anything about his day or interacted with him were the Malkins- and as long as he and Zhenya were careful, even they might never know. So as long as they were careful, and no one found out or made a fuss or found a way to leak it to any kind of press that cared, why should Sid try and stop it? It was nice, having someone to kiss and laugh with, and—well. 

 

This was his last summer before he went to the NHL, and then couldn’t have anyone at all. Once there were  _ that  _ many eyes, that many expectations, there was no way in hell he’d be able to maintain having a boyfriend, secret or otherwise. And Sid would rather not die a virgin, so he might as well let it happen while it could.

 

Zhenya was nice, Zhenya was fun, and Zhenya, of all people, understood what having eyes on you felt like. If they could make each other happy for the time being, who was Sid to deny the both of them that? He wouldn’t think about what happened in a few months, when he had to leave, wouldn’t think about missing Zhenya, or having to go to Worlds or the Olympics some day and share the ice with someone he spent a few months kissing. For once in his life, Sid resolved to stop looking ahead, and just focus on  _ being.  _

 

He wouldn’t get to just be for a long time after this, after all. 

* * *

 

 

The routine changed, but not by much. Zhenya would still wake him up early- even earlier, now- to go skate before practice or before he had to leave for away games, but now he’d wake him up with kisses. Several times, they made themselves late because they got too caught up in that, but for once in his life, Sid wasn’t too upset about missing ice time. On the ice, the were still as fiercely competitive as they always had been, playing against each other, but there was a lot more laughing involved than there had been before. 

 

At practice, Zhenya still showed off, and then after, he took Sid home and they spent whatever time they had before the rest of the Malkins got home to kiss some more. Sid was  _ definitely  _ pleased when the just kissing developed into a little heavy petting, too; it didn’t get farther than that, and there were definitely a few times that they had to just sit back and breathe before they ruined their pants, but he absolutely wasn’t complaining. 

 

Something that definitely  _ didn’t  _ change was the way Denis always looked at him when he came home, like there was something he either couldn’t figure out about Sid, or something he wanted to say, but never did. It always inevitably ended with Zhenya staring him down, as if he was daring him to speak up, and Denis looking away before he actually did. Every day, the exchange made Sid nervous, but since it never got past that point, he didn’t see the point in bringing it up. 

 

Another thing that didn’t change- thankfully- was Zhenya’s game; Metallurg was tearing the league up, at the top and staying there. Zhenya was smiling, almost every game he came home from, and Sid was starting to learn that there was little he loved more than seeing Zhenya smile. He likes those nights for more than watching Zhenya play, too; those were the nights that Zhenya would sneak back into his room after everyone else would go to bed, and they’d kiss and touch until they were both too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep tangled up in each other’s arms. 

 

It was a morning like that when Sid was awoken early by the sound of his door opening. He groaned, and turned over, figuring it was just Zhenya, coming back from the bathroom or something, but when he turned over, his face was pressed into something warm- Zhenya’s chest. 

 

His eyes flew open when he realized that, and he shot up straight in his bed. Staring back at him was Denis, eyes blown wide, and Sid felt his heart stop. “I…” he started, meaning to explain himself, think of some reason for this to be happening. There wasn’t really a good reason though, so he just sat there and gaped, staring back at him. 

 

There was a snuffling noise beside Sid as Zhenya shifted, yawning and throwing an arm over Sid’s waist and trying to pull him back down. “ _ It’s too early to be awake,”  _ he mumbled. “ _ Come back to  _ bed _ , Sid.”  _

 

“ _ Good morning, Denis,”  _ Sid said as calmly as he could manage. Zhenya frowned and opened his eyes, looking a little hurt until he realized that Sid was neither talking to nor looking at him. He shot up too, and away from Sid, looking at Denis with the same wide eyes that Denis was looking at them with. 

 

“ _ I knew it, _ ” Denis said, quiet at first, and then repeated, louder: “ _ I  _ knew  _ something was going on. _ ” 

 

“ _ Nothing’s going on,”  _ Zhenya said quickly. “ _ I just-- _ ”

 

“ _ You’re a bad liar, Zhenya, _ ” Denis said, and Zhenya’s mouth snapped shut. He looked  _ terrified,  _ and Sid was hit for a moment with the fact that he didn’t  _ know  _ how Zhenya’s family would take this; he’d never brought it up before, and Sid wasn’t exactly sure what being gay was even  _ like  _ in Russia. 

 

“ _ Are you going to tell Mama?”  _ Zhenya asked, sounding like a scared child who had just been caught sneaking out. His fingers were clenched so tightly in the sheets that Sid thought he was going to poke a hole through them, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Denis’ face softened. 

 

“ _ I’m not going to tell Mama,”  _ he said, half sighing, and a bit of the tension drained from Zhenya’s shoulders. He was nowhere close to being relaxed, though. “ _ I don’t… care, Zhenya, really, _ ” Denis said slowly, stepping forward. “ _ I could have figured this was going to happen before he even got here.”  _

 

Zhenya flushed, and frowned. “ _ How? _ ” he insisted, brow furrowed. “ _ I didn’t even  _ know  _ him _ .” 

 

Denis snorted. “ _ You knew his hockey _ , a _ nd, it was all you talked about, really- Crosby this, Crosby that.”  _ He used a shrill falsetto that sounded nowhere close to Zhenya’s voice, smiling a little. “ _ Like you were on the playground. Not hard to tell you were in love _ .” 

  
“ _ I was not,”  _ Zhenya muttered, face still beet red. Sid resisted the urge to smile a little; it wasn’t like they were out of the doghouse yet, but it made him more than a little giddy to think about Zhenya being that impressed with just his tape. 

 

“ _ You were too,”  _ Denis said, rolling his eyes. He paused for a second before speaking again, serious once more. “ _ Look, I really… don’t care, like I said. As long as you’re happy, and quiet about it, it doesn’t matter.”  _

 

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Zhenya said, practically breathing the words. He finally let go of the sheets, shoulders slumping with relief. “ _ We’ll be careful- we  _ are  _ careful _ .” 

 

“ _ You are,”  _ Denis said, nodding. “ _ So, keep being careful. Be  _ more  _ careful; you’ve got a lot on the line, Zhenya.”  _

 

_ “I know _ ,” Zhenya said, frowning and staring down at the comforter. Sid reached out and took his hand, squeezing it, and hoping that it was at least a little comforting; he knew, probably better than anyone, how it felt to have your whole life hinged on a balancing act of secrets. Zhenya smiled at him, and squeezed his hand back. 

 

“ _ And, you _ ,” Denis said, finally turning his attention back to Sid, pointing at him accusingly. “ _ He might be taller than a giraffe, but, he’s still my little brother. Hurt him, and you won’t be making it back to Canada. _ ” 

 

“ _ Yes,”  _ Sid said, nodding, and Denis nodded back.

 

“ _ You’re going to be late for practice, _ ” he said as he turned to walk out of the room, and Zhenya cursed as he turned over and checked the clock. 

 

“ _ We really do have to go _ ,” he sighed, frowning at Sid as he got out of bed. “ _ We can eat on the way there. _ ” 

 

Sid nodded and wanted to say more, but Zhenya was out of the room before he could. Instead, Sid was just left staring at his closed door, and forcing his heart rate down to something more manageable. 

 

Zhenya didn’t say anything once they had gotten into the car, silent until he had to ask Sid what he wanted to eat when they pulled into a drive through. His hands both stayed on the steering wheel, which was good news for their personal safety, but also not the norm; up until now, Zhenya had spent most of the drive holding Sid’s hand. Sid wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap, so he just ate quietly and kept his head bowed. 

 

There was a different air about practice, too; they were too late to get some ice time in before the rest of the team got there, so Zhenya just left Sid in the stands and went to change. When he took the ice again, he didn’t even look Sid’s way. He seemed shakier, once they actually started practicing; he was more aggressive, took more stupid risks- and, when he missed a shot near the end of practice, he broke his stick over his knee. 

 

The arena was suddenly silent. Sid would have thought he felt his heart break a little with it, if he didn’t also think that that was a stupidly overdramatic thing to think- even if he  _ did  _ feel like it. 

 

Zhenya’s coach didn’t seem pleased, and he sent him off soon after, which only made Sid’s heart ache a little more. Having your coach send you home was one of the worst feelings in the world, and Zhenya’s expression when he came back from the locker room was even more stormy than it had been when he’d gone out onto the ice.

 

The car was silent again on the ride home, except for the sound of screeching rubber; Sid had to hold onto the door handle again to keep from being thrown from his seat, because Zhenya was driving much faster than he did, even with his usual breakneck pace. 

 

Things  _ almost  _ went back to normal when they came back to an empty house, because as soon as the door was closed behind them, Zhenya all but threw himself at Sid; Sid barely had time to drop his bag before Zhenya was pressing him in the wall, seeming almost desperate. 

 

“Zhenya,” Sid said, and as much as he knew that they needed to stop, needed to  _ talk _ , the name came out breathy and wanton. “Zhenya, we really should-”

 

Zhenya made a noise in the back of his throat that was somewhere between a growl and a whine, covering Sid’s mouth with his and shutting him up. Sid hummed, though he wasn’t entirely sure it was in protest. 

 

He let Zhenya kiss him for a moment or two before he tried to pull back again, because,  _ really,  _ they needed to talk. Zhenya bit his lip as he tried to pull back, and Sid hissed in pain as he pushed him away. “ _ Need to stop _ ,” he said, breathless. “ _ Need to talk- _ ”

 

“ _ No, we  _ don’t,” Zhenya said, sounding desperate as he looked, mouth bright red and eyes watery.  “ _ There’s nothing to talk about, we don’t- _ ”

 

“ _ I need to know you’re okay _ ,” Sid said, soft, taking a step forward. “ _ This morning- _ ”

 

“ _ Can we not talk about this morning _ ?” Zhenya asked, frustrated, taking a step back. “ _ We don’t need to talk about it.”  _

 

“ _ I need to know you’re okay _ ,” Sid repeated, and this time, when he stepped forward, Zhenya didn’t move away. All the fight seemed to drain out of him; his shoulders slumped, his gaze dropped, and Sid could see him just barely shaking, holding back tears. 

 

“ _ I thought- _ ” Zhenya said, choking on the words and having to start over again. “ _ I thought I could have you, and my family, and hockey, and just… keep them all separate. No one would have to know, no one would get hurt, and I’d just… be happy _ .” 

 

“ _ No one’s hurt  _ now,” Sid said, reaching out and trying to draw Zhenya closer to him. Zhenya went easily, but it seemed like it was more because he was too exhausted to fight it than the fact that he wanted Sid to touch him. “ _ We’re okay- Denis said he wasn’t going to tell anyone.” _

 

Zhenya laughed; the sound was wet and humorless. “ _ Just because he’s not going to tell anyone doesn’t mean they’re not going to notice _ .” 

 

“ _ We’re careful, _ ” Sid said. “ _ We’re careful, and like he said, he only knew because he knew you liked me beforehand. _ ” 

 

“ _ People can’t know,”  _ Zhenya said. “ _ People can’t know, Sid; I could lose  _ everything,  _ my family could lose everything. _ ” 

 

Sid flinched, but didn’t say anything for a long while. He knew how Zhenya felt- to a degree, if not fully; it was exactly the reason he’d never dated at home. “ _ If you want, _ ” he said eventually, quietly. “ _ If… would be better for you if we… stopped this. Then, we can. It’s okay. _ ” 

 

“ _ I don’t  _ want  _ to _ ,” Zhenya said, and then sighed. “ _ I want you, I want to have you, and hockey, and my family. I just… I don’t like that I can’t have them all together, in the open. _ ” 

 

“ _ I’m sorry _ ,” Sid said because, really, that was all he  _ could  _ be. He couldn’t change things for Zhenya; couldn’t change Russia, or hockey, and he could only maybe change his family’s minds if this was something they weren’t going to be happy with. 

 

Zhenya shook his head. “ _ Not your fault _ ,” he sighed, and when he kissed Sid this time, it was much sweeter than before. “ _ We’ll be careful- very careful _ .”

 

“ _ Very careful _ ,” Sid echoed, offering him a small smile, which Zhenya returned. 

 

“ _ You’re more than I had ever expected,”  _ Zhenya murmured, wrapping his arms around Sid’s waist. There was open adoration in his gaze, and it made Sid’s cheeks go pink, and his stomach do flips.

 

“ _ What did you expect _ ?” Sid asked, and Zhenya laughed. 

 

“ _ A hockey angel _ ,” he hummed, and it was Sid’s turn to laugh now. Hockey robot, he’d heard before, but hockey  _ angel  _ was a new one. “ _ It turns out you’re not, though _ \-  _ you’re just a normal angel _ .” 

 

And Sid couldn’t  _ not  _ kiss him for that, so, he didn’t bother trying to fight the urge. This time, when they pulled away, they were both breathless and smiling, and the balance of the world seemed to shift back into the proper alignment. 

 

They didn’t do much more, after that, but Sid didn’t mind. He was happy to just sit on the couch and watch television with Zhenya’s arm around him, even if the arm disappeared the moment there was the sound of a key in the door.  

 

Denis still looked at them as he walked past, but Zhenya didn’t challenge his gaze like he had before. When he caught Sid’s eye, though, he smiled- it was small, and a little awkward, but Sid took it for the olive branch it was probably meant to be, and smiled back. 

 

Things were much less tense during dinner, and much closer to how they’d been before; everyone was talking and laughing, and Sid had to fight a dopey grin when Zhenya reached out and held his hand under the table. 

 

He left before Sid did, and after that morning, Sid wasn’t expecting Zhenya to join him in his room that night. Just when he was about to drift off though, his door opened, and he saw the outline of Zhenya in the dim hallway lighting before he closed the door, and Sid had to rely on sound to know that he was making his way across the room to him. 

 

“ _ I thought we were being careful _ ,” Sid murmured, even as he rolled over and tucked himself into Zhenya’s arms. 

 

Zhenya hugged, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “ _ This is being careful, _ ” he said. “ _ No one’s coming in here; Denis already caught us, he isn’t going to do it again. And, anyway… I missed you _ .” 

 

“ _ Saw me at dinner _ ,” Sid said, fighting a laugh. 

 

“ _ I still missed you _ ,” Zhenya said, and Sid  _ had  _ to laugh at that. Zhenya shushed him, and pressed another kiss to Sid’s forehead. “ _ Go to bed, Sid; we don’t want to wake up late again _ .” 

 

“ _ It was your fault we woke up late in the first place _ ,” Sid huffed, but he still settled more snugly under the covers and into Zhenya’s arms, and closed his eyes. “ _ Goodnight.”  _

 

_ “Goodnight _ ,  _ angel, _ ” Zhenya said.

 

Sid fell asleep smiling.    
  


* * *

 

 

Even with everything else going on, Metallurg was still leading the league going into the home stretch of their season, and Sid couldn’t help bursting with pride every time he saw Zhenya on the ice. 

 

The last game of their season was home one, and Sid didn’t think he’d ever seen the crowd at Romazan more alight. The crowd was amazing, buzzing from the second the doors opened and roaring as the players took the ice. Zhenya looped past Sid and the rest of his family, grinning, before he went out to do his stretches. Sid  _ still  _ wasn’t exactly sure what muscles Zhenya was stretching, but he appreciated the view all the same. 

Zhenya smiled at him one more time, just after the anthem, and Sid felt like he was the only person in the stadium right up until the puck dropped, and the crowd was roaring in his ears again. 

 

If you asked him about the match later, Sid wouldn’t be able to tell you much about it. All he remembered, really, was the very end, when the stadium sounded like the roar of a jet, and Metallurg had won. Sid had been on his feet since the first period, and he could barely hear his own cheering over the sound of his heartbeat. 

 

Metallurg was going into playoffs at the top of the league. 

 

He had to fight to keep from just tackling Zhenya as soon as he came out of the locker room, a mantra of  _ careful, careful _ , pushing down the urge to kiss him until they were both breathless. 

 

Sid felt a little better when he saw that Zhenya had the same heated look in his eye, staring Sid down from the moment he spotted him. Sid licked his lips, mouth suddenly bone dry. Zhenya’s eyes followed the movement, and Sid felt something warm curling in the pit of his stomach. 

 

“ _ I think _ ,” Zhenya said when he was within earshot, voice low. “ _ I’m too tired to go out tonight _ .” 

 

“ _ Should celebrate, _ ” Sid said, even though he was pretty sure his knees were about to give out from under him with the way Zhenya was looking at him. He looked like he was  _ starving _ , but Sid had a feeling (a hope) that it wasn’t for any kind of food. “ _ Be with team. Playoffs at top of league, big deal _ .” 

 

“ _ I want to take you home _ ,” Zhenya said, stepping closer to Sid than was probably safe for a public space. He couldn’t bring himself to care too much, though. 

 

“ _ Take me home _ ,” Sid said, because he couldn’t say no to a proposal like that. Zhenya grinned, and quickly reached out to squeeze Sid’s hand, though he dropped it before starting towards the exit. 

 

Sid was sure it was supposed to be cold outside, but he felt like he was standing in the summer sun back home, warmth radiating everywhere. Zhenya kept giving him looks that made Sid shiver, though, so he was glad he could at least blame  _ that _ on the cold, instead of his own embarrassing excitement. 

 

They were quiet, when they got to the car, but Sid nearly jumped ten feet in the air when Zhenya reached over while they were on the road and put his hand on Sid’s thigh, much higher up than was probably safe while they were driving. 

 

The house was quiet when they got inside, which didn’t necessarily mean that the rest of the Malkins had gone to bed, but Sid wasn’t sure either of them really cared- he barely did, and the look in Zhenya’s eye didn’t make Sid think that he had more than just one thing on his mind. 

 

They didn’t do much more than share glances as they walked through the house, quiet as they would be if they were robbing it. Any meekness ended as soon as the door to Sid’s room closed behind them, though; Zhenya locked the door, and then he was across the room in a matter of steps, dragging Sid closer and into a kiss. 

 

Sid melted into it, pushing his hands under Zhenya’s shirt and skimming them down his sides, digging his fingers in as Zhenya started trying to walk them backwards toward the bed. Sid let himself be pushed because he didn’t have any idea what he was doing here in the first place, but he also  _ really  _ wasn’t about to stop and ask, in case he ruined the moment, because Sid  _ wanted  _ Zhenya, and Zhenya seemed to want him. 

 

He felt a little more present once he was laying down on the bed with Zhenya on top of him, but most of that presence came in the form of very clearly feeling Zhenya’s erection pressed against his own, so Sid didn’t think it counted all that much; all it made him do was roll his hips up against Zhenya’s and let out an embarrassing whine that Zhenya shushed him for. 

 

“ _ We have to be quiet,”  _ Zhenya murmured, even as he pushed his hands under Sid’s shirt and made doing so almost impossible. Sid wasn’t used to a lot of touch- he usually didn’t want it, didn’t like people near him, but right now, he couldn’t seem to get Zhenya close enough. “ _ I promise, I’ll make you scream some other time _ .” 

 

“You’re so unfair,” Sid said, quieter but still obviously whining. His Russian had deteriorated at this point, and he wasn’t sure if Zhenya understood him, but he laughed a little, so he must have at least got the gist of it. 

 

He kissed Sid again, but only for a moment before he pulled away, and Sid had to bite his tongue to keep another embarrassing noise from escaping. “Off,” Zhenya said, pawing at Sid’s shirt. It sounded like the word took a lot of effort for him to get out, so Sid felt a little better in knowing that he wasn’t the only one that was on the verge of falling apart.

 

He hummed in reply, and sat up as much as he could with Zhenya straddling him so that he could pull his shirt over his head. He was immediately hit with cold air, and he gasped, but the heat in Zhenya’s gaze more than made up for it. “ _ So pretty _ ,” he said, practically cooing as he ran his hands down Sid’s sides and back up again, looking at Sid like he was the most precious thing in the world. Sid wanted to squirm, to get away from the attention and the fluttery feeling it put in his stomach, but he wanted to bathe in it for the rest of his life just as much. 

 

“Flatterer,” he mumbled, and Zhenya didn’t seem to get that, but he started kissing a line down Sid’s neck and chest, so Sid didn’t really care too much. 

 

“ _ You’re so pretty _ ,” Zhenya said again, in between kisses. “ _ You must have people telling you that all the time, hm? But, I mean it. _ ” 

 

“ _ No one _ ,” Sid said, breath hitching the farther down Zhenya got. “ _ No one, not like you _ .” And, that was true; he’d had girls tell him he was cute, and he’d had people commenting on his ass since he was old enough for that to be acceptable, but he’d never heard anyone call him  _ pretty _ \- at least, not the way Zhenya said it, like it was something good. He’d had ‘pretty boy’ spat at him more times than he could count on the ice, but when Zhenya called him pretty, it made Sid  _ feel  _ like it, not like he should be ashamed. 

 

“ _ No one in Canada must have eyes, then _ ,” Zhenya huffed, sounding offended on his behalf. Sid muffled a giggle that turned into a gasp when Zhenya palmed his erection. Even through his jeans, it was a lot; definitely a lot more than Sid had ever had before, even if that wasn’t saying much. “ _ That’s fine with me, though; that just means I get to be the first. _ ” 

 

“ _ First _ ,” Sid echoed, bucking up into Zhenya’s touch. “Fuck, Zhenya, I-  _ first, best. _ ” 

 

“ _ Always _ ,” Zhenya said. Sid didn’t know if he was talking about always being the best or, now, always being Sid’s first, but his hand was on Sid’s dick again, and then everything else seemed kind of trivial. 

 

“ _ Too much clothes _ ,” Sid said, fingers digging into Evgeni’s shoulders, clawing at his shirt. “ _ Mine gone, you too _ .”

 

“ _ That would mean I have to stop touching you, though _ ,” Zhenya said, making a put-upon face even as he drew back, and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room somewhere. It’s Sid turn to look at Zhenya like he’s the best thing in the world, now; he’d changed with him for months now, but locker room etiquette had kept him from ever looking. Now, though, he could look his fill- and,  _ god _ , was there a lot to look at. Sid felt more than a little overwhelmed, but in the best possible way. 

 

“Pretty,” Sid said, almost exactly how Zhenya had for him, because Zhenya needed to know that he was the best thing Sid had ever seen in his life. Zhenya seemed to get the feeling behind the word, and he laughed quietly, ducking down to kiss Sid again. Sid wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to drag Zhenya down, or at least closer, so Sid had some kind of friction for his hips to rock up into instead of just empty air.

 

When Zhenya (finally,  _ finally _ ) dropped down enough that Sid could rock up against him, Sid could feel that Zhenya was just as turned on as he was. They both moaned, and Zhenya’s head dropped onto Sid’s shoulder, breathing harshly. “ _ We don’t  _ have  _ to do anything, _ ” he said, and Sid wanted to laugh because, really, it was a little too late for that. “ _ If you’re not ready, we don’t-- _ ”

 

“ _ Zhenya,”  _ Sid said, and he meant to sound firm, but it came out like a whine. “ _ I want. I want, I want.”  _

 

Zhenya hummed, but didn’t move for a moment before he pushed himself off of Sid and to his feet again. Sid frowned, and probably looked a little confused, so Zhenya had mercy on him and explained. “ _ I don’t think you want to ruin your pants, _ ” he said. “ _ So- off _ .” 

 

Sid didn’t have to be told twice, even if he was a little nervous now. He’d undressed in front of people before more times than he could count, but there was a definite difference between doing it in a locker room, when no one was really looking, and doing it here, with Zhenya’s heated gaze on him. He fumbled with the buttons on his pants a few times before he managed to get them undone and shimmy them off, hesitating for only a second before he took his underwear off too, and dropped them over the side of the bed. 

 

Zhenya was undressed too, by the time he finished, and Sid had to bite his lip to keep his mouth from falling open. He knew, objectively, that he was being really,  _ really  _ silly at this point, but he didn’t have enough blood running through his brain to make himself calm down and really collect himself. Zhenya didn’t look away as he got back on the bed and straddled Sid again, setting his hands on either side of Sid’s waist, dragging his fingers down until they brushed his hips, and then his thighs as Zhenya himself moved farther down, dangerously close to where Sid  _ wanted  _ him to touch, but not close enough because he wasn’t  _ there _ . 

  
“Zhenya,” he said, squirming a little bit. Zhenya laughed, and he patted Sid’s thigh consolingly with one hand before he finally,  _ finally _ wrapped his hand around Sid’s cock. Sid had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from just coming from that, which was another embarrassing thing he was going to omit from his memories of this when he looked back on it. 

 

He barely had time to pull himself together again before Zhenya’s mouth followed his hand.  Sid’s eyes shot open wide before he squeezed them shut, throwing an arm over his face and knotting his other hand in the sheets, unsure of what to do with them. He was pretty sure putting them on Zhenya’s head would be rude, and he didn’t want to end up accidentally choking him. 

 

As soon as he covered his eyes, though, Zhenya pulled off, and Sid was afraid for a moment that he’d done something wrong before he felt Zhenya tugging at his arm, pulling it away from his face. “ _ I want to see you, _ ” he said, threading their fingers together as he moved back down the bed. It put him in a somewhat awkward position, but he didn’t seem to care, and it gave Sid something to do other than maybe rip a hole in the sheets. He squeezed Zhenya’s hand, and Zhenya squeezed back, smiling as he went back down. He licked a stripe down the underside of Sid’s dick, and Sid had to fight to keep from bucking up again. He really,  _ really  _ wasn’t going to make it very far with this. 

 

Zhenya seemed determined to try all the same though, and this time he almost managed to meet his mouth to his hand before he pulled back again. Sid didn’t have much of anything to compare this to, and he wasn’t sure he’d have the words to, after- Zhenya was, quite literally, blowing his mind, and he had to bite back a giggle at that. He didn’t think laughter was appropriate either, when you were in the middle of getting your dick sucked. 

 

His giggle turned into a moan when Zhenya hummed around him. Sid was starting to feel like he was maybe going to shake apart- and, what a story that would make.  _ Sidney Crosby’s Promising Career Cut Short Due to Death by Blowjob _ . 

 

Story or none, he was still squeezing Zhenya’s hand like he was going to break it and falling apart under his mouth, small little gasps and moans being muffled only by his bitten lip. “Close,” he said, breathless, Russian completely abandoning him. “Zhenya, I’m-”

 

Zhenya just hummed again, and didn’t pull back. Instead, he squeezed Sid’s hand and seemed to redouble his efforts, keeping his eyes on Sid’s as he bobbed his head, swallowing Sid almost all the way down before he moved back up again. 

 

Sid was surprised he didn’t break skin biting down on his lip as he came, but he managed not to wake up the whole house in a manner of seconds either, so he must have been full of tricks. He did whine, when Zhenya pulled back, but he was quickly silenced again by the sight of his throat working as he swallowed, and the proud- no-  _ smug  _ smile on his face as he moved back up the bed towards Sid. Sid pulled him down into a kiss on instinct, and grimaced at first at the taste of himself on Zhenya’s tongue. It wasn’t so bad though, after the first taste, so he just let himself melt back into the mattress when Zhenya pressed him down, and kissed back until they both had to break for air again. 

 

“Let me up,” Sid said, after his got his wits back about him. Zhenya hummed, but didn’t move, leaning back in to kiss Sid. “Zhenya,” Sid said again, whining. “Let me  _ up _ , come on-  _ your turn. You make me feel good, I’m make you now. _ ” 

 

“ _ You don’t have to _ ,” Zhenya said, even though Sid could feel his that his dick was  _ very  _ interested in the idea.

 

“ _ I want,”  _ Sid said. “ _ I want, I say already. Just- not know how _ .” 

 

Zhenya smiled at him, and pulled him into another kiss. This one was different from the rest, that night; it was slow, and almost gentle, and Sid was positive it was his admitted inexperience that flipped the switch, but he couldn’t bring himself to be offended like he might have normally if someone implied that they thought he needed to be coddled. He  _ liked _ Zhenya being soft with him. “ _ I can show you _ ,” he said, mumbling the words into the curve of Sid’s neck. 

 

“ _ Just did, little bit _ ,” Sid said, and Zhenya laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. 

 

“ _ Start small, hm _ ?” he said, and Sid  _ wanted  _ to tell Zhenya that there was absolutely nothing about him that was  _ small  _ to start with, but the chirp died on his lips when Zhenya took his hand, and guided it to his cock. “ _ I’ll show you I like it. Just this, for tonight _ .” 

 

“ _ Can do more _ ,” Sid insisted, because he wanted Zhenya to feel  _ good _ ; that was the point of this. 

 

“ _ Just this,”  _ Zhenya said again, wrapping his hand around Sid’s and squeezing. Sid huffed, but if this was what Zhenya wanted, he’d give it. “ _ Keep your hand tight, yeah? _ ” 

 

“Yeah,” Sid said, voice distant to his own ears because  _ holy shit he was doing this _ . The angle was a little weird, and Zhenya’s dick was longer than his was, but, it was still practically the same as getting himself off- and Sid had always been quick to adapt. 

 

Zhenya leaned forward and pressed his face into the crook of Sid’s neck, muffling a moan. Hearing him make that noise and knowing  _ he  _ was the reason for that, and all the short, almost keening noises that came after it was probably the biggest rush Sid had ever gotten off the ice. 

 

Zhenya didn’t last long before he was shaking and coming over both of their chests and jointed hands, chanting Sid’s name quietly like a prayer. They both laid there in the aftermath for a moment, just breathing, chests heaving, before Zhenya sighed, pressed a kiss to Sid’s neck, and started pulling them apart. 

 

“ _ Be right back _ ,” he assured Sid before he could protest, and Sid had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the way Zhenya almost waddled to the door as he went out into the hall. 

 

He left the door open, so Sid could hear the rush of water down the hall in the bathroom- on, then off, and on again after a few seconds- and the gentle plod of Zhenya walking back. When he came back, Zhenya closed the door behind him again, and started back towards the bed. He sat on the edge, though, instead of laying down, and Sid had a second or so to be confused about that before something wet hit his skin, and Zhenya started cleaning him off. 

 

When he was done, Zhenya dropped the washcloth he’d been using to the floor, and climbed into bed beside Sid again, pulling the covers over both of them, Sid smiled and tucked himself against his side, prompting a content hum from Zhenya. “ _ Was good _ ?” Sid couldn’t help but ask. 

 

“ _ It was the best _ ,” Zhenya said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “ _ You’re the best _ .” 

 

Sid’s smile got a little wider, and he was glad Zhenya couldn’t see how pink his cheeks probably were. “ _ You too _ .” 

 

“ _ I’m always the best, _ ” Zhenya said, matter of fact. “ _ You should know that by now _ .” 

 

“ _ Of course _ ,” Sid said, laughing and pressing a kiss to Zhenya’s jaw before he stifled a yawn. 

 

“ _ We should sleep _ ,” Zhenya said, catching it even though Sid had hoped he wouldn’t. 

 

“ _ Not want to, _ ” Sid mumbled, turning into Zhenya more and throwing an arm around his waist. “ _ If I’m sleep, day’s over. Too good a day to be over _ .” 

 

“ _ We’ve got more days, Sid,”  _ Zhenya said, squeezing his shoulder. “ _ Tomorrow will be a good day, too, and the next one, and the one after that. _ ”

 

“ _ Every day with you is a good one _ ,” Sid said, stifling another yawn. 

 

“ _ Then go to sleep,”  _ Zhenya said, almost laughing. “ _ So that we can have them _ .” 

 

Sid couldn’t argue with that, really, so he just sighed, and closed his eyes. “ _ Goodnight, Zhenya _ .” 

 

“ _ Goodnight, Sid _ ,” Zhenya said, and Sid almost didn’t feel the feather light kiss he pressed to the top of his head before he fell asleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Seeing Zhenya got a lot harder, in the postseason, and Sid understood. Chasing the Gagarin Cup was just as big as chasing the Memorial Cup was in juniors- or even chasing the Stanley Cup in the NHL, and there was no room for distraction. There were more and more roadies, more and more practices, and less and less of them Sid could come to. Zhenya woke up earlier, sometimes woke Sid up to kiss him goodbye, sometimes didn’t, and was off for either the whole day or two. 

 

Sid spent a lot more time with Natalia now, cooking and running errands, and that was good- Sid definitely loved her, and loved spending time with the rest of the Malkins, too, but he couldn’t help the not so small part of him that missed Zhenya every time he went away. He started to maybe understand how all the guys back home said their girlfriends got when they were on long roadies. 

 

Metallurg did well though, fighting its way all the way to the finals, and Sid couldn’t help but be so, so very proud of Zhenya and his team. Every time Zhenya came home after a win, exhausted but grinning, Sid had to resist the urge to drag him to bed and let him know- and, a few times, he just didn’t resist at all. 

 

As the last game of the season crept closer, the moments they could steal became less and less substantial, and Sid had to work to press down on the part of himself that kept counting down the days until he had to go back home. He had two weeks, maybe, after the season was over, and then it was back to Canada. 

 

He and Zhenya never talked about what would happen when Sid had to go. Every time Sid would call home, Zhenya would step out of the room to give him privacy, but Sid could see the way he frowned as he did it, and he noticed that when he came back after Sid was done, he’d hold him tighter than he would normally. So he knew they both knew that, at some point, this was either going to have to end, or change, and Sid didn’t think he was ready for either. 

 

But, Sid knew, after Zhenya’s season was over, he had no more excuses. After the final game, win or lose, they were going to have to talk about this- though, god, he hoped for a win more than anything. He wanted that for Zhenya.

 

Hoping and wanting were rarely enough, though, and even though Sid did both, Metallurg still lost by one in regulation. 

 

When he came home, Zhenya was exhausted, and crushed, and Sid didn’t know what to say as he stood in the living room and watched him set down his bags, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He hadn’t gone with the rest of the Malkins to pick Zhenya up, and he regretted it now, when Zhenya met his gaze and only looked  _ more  _ upset; at least, then, there’d be some kind of buffer, and he’d have had the ride home to think about what he could say to make Zhenya feel better. 

 

Now though, he had nothing, so instead he just opened his arms, and let Zhenya come to him. Zhenya did so in a few steps, and he leaned on Sid so heavily that he thought he was going to fall over from the weight of him. 

 

The rest of the Malkins came in after Zhenya, but they didn’t say anything, even though Sid could feel their eyes on them as they passed. Sid didn’t pay them any mind; he focused on Zhenya, whispering what he’d probably otherwise consider platitudes and nonsense to him and holding him tight. “ _ You play so good _ ,” he said, because Zhenya had. He’d been watching on the television, and it wasn’t like Metallurg hadn’t fought hard til the last second, and Zhenya had been skating like a monster. 

 

“ _ Not good enough _ ,” Zhenya mumbled back, and Sid hated how his voice shook, how disappointed he sounded. “ _ If it was good enough, we would have won _ .” 

 

“ _ You can play good, and not win, _ ” Sid said. He knew Zhenya knew that, but he also knew that, after a game like this, he could probably do with a reminder. “ _ Lose not always mean not good enough _ .” 

 

“ _ This time, it does _ ,” Zhenya huffed, sounding angry now. For a moment, he seemed like he was going to try to pull away but in the end, he just sighed and slumped further into Sid’s arms. This time, Sid couldn’t help but stumble back, and they ended up on the couch with Zhenya uncomfortably laying on top of him. He still didn’t let go though, so Sid rearranged himself best he could, and let Zhenya be. 

 

“ _ You play good, _ ” he said again, stubborn as he always was. “ _ Play even better, next year _ .  _ Next year, win _ .” 

 

“ _ Next year _ ,” Zhenya said, the words coming out sounding almost like a sigh. There was a pause before he spoke again. “ _ Next year, not have you here _ .” 

 

It was the first they’d ever spoke of it, and it caught Sid a little off guard. He took a second to collect himself before he replied. “ _ No, _ ” he said, and Zhenya tensed in his arms. “ _ I’m… not be here, but. Still watch, still cheer, still want you win. _ ” 

 

“ _ You’re going to watch me all the way back in Canada? _ ” Zhenya said, and he sounded like he was trying to make a joke of it, but Sid nodded. 

 

“ _ Watch you _ ,” he said. “ _ Every game. Still call, still talk to you. Write you letters _ .” 

 

“ _ Letters _ ,” Zhenya snorted again. “ _ Letters are going to talk a long time to get here, Sid. _ ” 

 

“ _ E-mails, then _ ,” Sid said, determined. “ _ Write you any way I can. Not forget you, Zhenya _ .  _ You think I can?” _

 

Zhenya’s breath hitched, and Sid really thought he was really going to pull away this time, but he didn’t let him. “ _ Can’t,”  _ he said, insistent. “ _ Can’t forget you, Zhenya; never able to forget. Remember, forever, even if you decide stop talk to me, forget me after I’m go home. Can’t forget you. _ ” 

 

Zhenya was silent for a long while, and Sid didn’t even think he was breathing, but he eventually sighed, and looked up at Sid. His eyes were a little wet and Sid panicked, because he didn’t want Zhenya to  _ cry _ ; the whole point of this was so Zhenya  _ wasn’t  _ sad. 

 

“ _ You think I could ever forget you, either _ ?” Zhenya said, laughing a little. “ _ Of  _ course _ I couldn’t forget you, Sid; don’t be stupid. _ ” Sid frowned at that, but Zhenya went on before he could protest. “ _ I couldn’t forget you  _ before  _ we met, how do you think I could forget you now? Now that I know you, now that I- _ ” He cut himself off with a frustrated noise, and pressed his lips into a thin line.

 

There was silence for a minute again before Zhenya went on. “ _ I could never forget you _ ,” he said again. “ _ You’re… you’re important to me. _ ”

 

“ _ You’re important to me, _ ” Sid said, and Zhenya smiled. 

 

“ _ You’re the best thing to happen to me in my life, Sid, _ ” Zhenya said, and there was no way he could mean it, but it made Sid’s heart soar all the same. 

 

“ _ You’re the best thing to happen to  _ me, _ ”  _ Sid said, because he  _ did  _ mean it; even with all the amazing things that had happened to him in his life, Zhenya was still the best. Even if he won the Memorial Cup, the Stanley Cup, and Olympic gold, all in the same year, he still didn’t think he’d be as happy as he’s been since coming here, with Zhenya. 

 

“ _ You’d better write a lot, _ ” Zhenya said, laughing again- this time, though, he sounded happy, and Sid laughed with him. 

 

“ _ Every day _ ,” he promised. “ _ Talk every day _ .” 

 

Someone cleared their throat, then, and they both jumped, and looked back to see Natalia standing there with a smile on her face that she was clearly trying to hide. “ _ Dinner’s ready _ ,” she said, and Zhenya shot to his feet, food obviously winning out over Sid. 

 

“ _ Love you, mama, _ ” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he passed, and Natalia laughed. 

  
Dinner was loud and happy, Zhenya laughing and smiling and fighting with Denis like he hadn’t been crushed just a few moments before. Sid couldn’t tell if it was an act or not, but, he was happy to see Zhenya smiling, so he didn’t press much. 

 

Everyone kept to the living room after that, and there was no mention of hockey in the conversation, or another run at the Cup next season. Sid was a little floored by it; he was sure that, if this were his house, his dad would want him to be strategizing, would be helping him pluck apart his play and find out what he was going to be improving on over the summer. The Malkins weren’t much like Sid’s family back home though; he’d learned that early on. They were  _ a  _ family, in a way he’d yearned to have in the back of his mind for most of his life- and, it hit him then, he  _ did  _ have it, a little.  

 

When he called Zhenya, he had no doubt Natalia would pull the line from him sometimes, or Vladimir, or… well, maybe not Denis, but Sid felt like he’d hear from even him, a little. The Malkins, really, had come to feel just as much like family to him as his own family did- maybe more so, he thought a little ruefully; he had certainly spent more time with them than Sid  _ usually  _ got with his family during the year.  

 

He caught Zhenya’s eye from the other end of the couch, where Denis had meaningfully situated himself between the two of them, and smiled. Zhenya smiled back, and even if Sid could see he was still a little sad behind, it still made his heart flutter in his chest to see it. 

 

Zhenya wasn’t entirely happy, and Sid was a little scared about what was going to happen after he left- but for now, they were both smiling, and that was enough. 

 

* * *

 

 

The day before Sid was set to go back to Canada, Sid was starting to contemplate maybe changing his name and hiding out in Russia for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like there wasn’t hockey here, and he wouldn’t have to have his last sight of Zhenya be the sad face he’d been making at him almost all week. 

 

“ _ We’re still going to talk _ ,  _ you know _ ,” he said when Zhenya sent him a particularly sad look from across the locker room as they were getting ready for their morning skate. They’d been able to keep skating at Metallurg’s practice facility, even after the season was over, which was definitely nice. “ _ You say so _ .” 

 

“ _ I know, _ ” Zhenya said, but he still had that look on his face. Sid sighed and finished pulling off his gear before going over to Zhenya and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

 

“ _ Nothing change _ ,” he said, and Zhenya laughed, a little rueful. 

 

“ _ I’m not going to get to wake up to you every morning _ ,” he said. “ _ Not going to get to go to sleep with you at night, not going to get to touch you, or see you smile. A lot’s going to change, Sid _ .” 

 

“ _ Not a lot, _ ” Sid said, even though that  _ seemed  _ like a lot. “ _ Still can talk, still… still like each other _ .” 

 

“ _ Yes, _ ” Zhenya hummed, and he laughed again, much happier this time. “ _ I like you very much, Sid _ .” 

 

Sid hummed back, and stretched up to kiss him. “ _ Then we be okay _ ,” he said. “ _ Long as talk, and still like each other, be okay _ .  _ I watch your games, maybe come visit during off season, or you come to me. We be okay _ .” 

 

Zhenya just sighed and nodded, and if he held Sid’s hand a little tighter on the car ride home, Sid didn’t comment on it. He was just as scared as Zhenya was, really; he knew things weren’t going to be the same and, logically, at some point, this was going to have to stop. There was no way he could keep Zhenya a secret forever- from his parents or the press- and if people found out about them, he knew it could be a disaster for them both. But Sid also knew that there was a slim chance that he was ever going to be able to let go of Zhenya, so he pushed the eventuality to the back of his mind. One day, he’d have to let go, but for now, the spotlight was still pointed a little to the left, and he could get away with having a “friend” on another continent. People did it all the time. 

 

Zhenya seemed a little antsy as they were sitting on the couch that afternoon, and Sid wouldn’t have said anything about it if he also didn’t keep averting his eyes from the television to look down the hall. “ _ We don’t have to sit here _ ,” he said, eventually, and Zhenya’s gaze snapped back to him. 

 

“ _ What do you mean _ ?” he asked. 

 

“ _ You’re look like not want to be here, _ ” Sid said slowly. “ _ So, if not want sit here, we’re not have to _ .” 

 

“ _ I want to sit with you, _ ” Zhenya said, sighing. “ _ I just… fuck it _ .” He pulled his arm out from around Sid, and stood. “ _ I was going to wait for tomorrow, and give this to you to open when you got home, but… I kind of want to see you when you see it _ .  _ Wait here _ .” 

 

He was jogging through the house before Sid could protest and tell him that,  _ really _ , he didn’t need to get Sid anything, and the words fell dead on the tip of his tongue when Zhenya came back, and shoved a sloppily wrapped box at him. “ _ Open it _ ,” he said, prompting, something hopeful gleaming in his eye. “ _ I want to know if you like it. _ ” 

 

“ _ From you, of course I like, _ ” Sid huffed, but he started carefully peeling back the wrapping paper all the same. He opened the box, and his breath hitched; inside, carefully folded, was a Metallurg jersey and shirt, and he didn’t have to turn them over to know what was on the back, but he did anyway.  _ Malkin  _ was emblazoned across the shoulders of both the jersey and the shirt, and Sid felt like he was going to cry for the first time that day. He'd done so well at keeping any tears at bay; he'd learned a long time ago that crying never really helped anything, but now, he couldn't help it. 

 

“ _ Is something wrong _ ?” Zhenya asked, frowning. “ _ Did I do something wrong _ ?” 

 

“ _ No _ ,” Sid said vehemently, throwing his arms around Zhenya’s neck and trying to blink the tears away. “ _ No, Zhenya, is perfect gift. Love it..” _

 

_ “I know you said you're not going to forget me,”  _ Zhenya said, wrapping his arms around Sid in return and holding him tight. “ _ But, just in case, I got you something to remember me by.” _

 

_ “I'm never forget you,”  _ Sid said, though he wasn't sure how much of that Zhenya actually caught. He was a really, really ugly crier, and his Russian probably suffered for it. 

 

“ _ I'll never forget you, either.”  _ Zhenya mumbled, pressing a kiss into Sid’s hair, his voice sounding a little strained. “ _ Come on, Sid; if you keep crying, I’m going to cry, too, and no one wants that.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry,”  _ Sid said, and he was sniffling, but he couldn't get himself to stop crying entirely. At least the tears were falling quietly now. “ _ I don't want to leave.” _

 

_ “I don't want you to leave, either,”  _ Zhenya said, sounding more broken than Sid had ever heard him before. “ _ But, you have to. I’m sure your family misses you, and your team, and your friends.” _

 

“ _ I know,”  _ Sid said, sighing instead of telling Zhenya that he really didn't have friends, how little Sid got to see his family, and how Sid didn't feel as attached to his teammates as he maybe should; he knew he already knew most of that. “ _ But I’m miss you most, when I go _ .” 

 

“ _I’m going to miss you, too_ ,” Zhenya said, and even though that had to be the umpteenth time he’d said the words since the reality of Sid leaving became pressing, it still made Sid’s stomach curl itself into knots. “ _But, me missing you doesn’t mean you don’t get to go live your life._ _All of Canada would have my head if I kept you from coming home; I can see the headlines now: ‘Ruthless Russian Kidnaps the Kid for the Superleague.’”_

 

“ _ You’re not kidnap me if I’m stay on own _ ,” Sid huffed, but he still smiled at the joke. 

 

“ _ Just in case, though, _ ” Zhenya said, letting him go. “ _ Go put the jersey on; I want to see you in it before you go _ .” 

 

Sid laughed again, but grabbed the jersey all the same, and changed. Zhenya’s awed look when he spun around to show him his name across Sid’s back was more than enough to push all other thoughts from Sid’s mind. They’d be alright; they had to be.

 

Dinner was something of a celebration, and Sid had to stop himself from crying again as Natalia and Vladimir both hugged him and made him promise to call. “ _ You’re better actually call, _ ” Denis added, once they were both out of earshot. “ _ I’m not dealing with Zhenya’s griping if you don’t _ .” 

 

“ _ I’m call _ ,” Sid said, now trying to hide his smile. 

 

“ _ You’d better, _ ” Denis said again, but he nodded, so Sid figured he passed the test. 

 

Sid was reluctant to go to bed, but he had to; his flight was leaving early. He’d only been in bed for maybe five minutes, though, when his door opened, and Zhenya came in and shut it behind him. He didn’t say anything, even as he slipped into bed next to Sid and wrapped his arms around him, so Sid didn’t say anything either. There was so much  _ left  _ to say, so much he probably should, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, or make either of them sadder than they already were. 

 

Instead of talking, and instead of sleeping, he just laid there, listening to Zhenya’s breathing. He was sure he was awake too, but he didn’t want to disturb the moment. This was the last time for a long time- maybe for  _ forever _ \- they were going to get to do this, and memorizing the way Zhenya’s arms fit around him and the steady, calming rise and fall of his breathing was more important. 

 

Despite himself, Sid eventually fell asleep, and morning came too soon. He had half a mind to pretend to sleep through Zhenya shaking him awake, fake it long enough that he had to get another flight, but he knew that would be too much to ask, so he sighed and opened his eyes. “ _ We have to go, or you’re going to miss your flight, _ ” Zhenya said, and he sounded about as happy about it as Sid was. 

 

“ _ Sure I can’t stay forever _ ?” Sid said, and he was only mostly joking, but Zhenya still laughed. 

 

“ _ I wish you could, _ ” he said. “ _ And I’m sure Mama would let you, but, I don’t think your family would appreciate us keeping you _ .” 

 

“ _ If you say so, _ ” Sid said, sighing and rolling out of bed. “ _ Not have enough time here _ .” 

 

“ _ Forever would barely be enough time _ ,  _ I think _ ,” Zhenya said. He walked around the bed and pressed a kiss to Sid’s forehead before he left the room so that Sid could get ready and collect himself. 

 

He couldn’t help but stare a little forlornly at the Malkins’ house once he’d gone outside to put his bags in Zhenya’s car; it’d been a long time now, since he’d seen it for the first time. He barely felt like he was the same person he had been when he first came to Russia- and, hell, maybe he wasn’t. 

 

“ _ Ready to go _ ?” Zhenya asked, shoving the last of his bags into the trunk. He looked like he hoped Sid was going to say no. Sid wanted to.

 

“ _ Yeah, _ ” he said instead, and got into the car.

 

Zhenya held his hand the whole way to the airport, and even when they’d gotten there and parked, he didn’t let go. “ _ I changed my mind, _ ” he said, not looking at Sid- Sid could see the wetness shining in his eyes, anyway. “ _ You can stay here, and we’ll tell your family we lost you, and you can play hockey for Russia _ .” 

 

“ _ I wish I could _ ,” Sid said. He’d never thought about not playing for the NHL, not going to the Olympics for his home country, but he also couldn’t deny that the offer was tempting. “ _ I have to go, Zhenya _ .” 

 

“ _ I know _ ,” Zhenya said. He still wasn’t looking at Sid, and Sid could feel his hand shaking for a moment before he stilled it, and turned to Sid. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to each of Sid’s cheeks before he pulled his hand away, smiling thinly. “ _ Go home, Sid.” _

 

“ _ I  _ am  _ home _ ,” Sid said, because he couldn’t help himself. “ _ You’re home. _ ”

 

Zhenya made a pained noise. “ _ You can’t say things like that and expect me to let you go, _ ” he said. “ _ And, if you’re going to make your flight, you really do need to go _ .” 

 

“ _ I’ll call you as soon as I’m home _ ,” Sid said, and he smiled at Zhenya one last time before he summoned all his willpower and got out of the car. 

 

He didn’t even get to the trunk to take out his bags before he stopped again, a sense of wrongness and an idea hitting him within seconds of each other. He jogged back up to the front and pulled the door open again, obviously startling Zhenya. “ _ I want to give you something _ ,” he said, reaching behind himself to unclasp the chain he always wore around his neck, handing it to Zhenya. “ _ You gave me something to not forget you. This is so you don’t forget me _ .” 

 

“ _ I wasn’t going to, anyway _ ,” Zhenya said, sounding dazed as he stared at the necklace, looking at it like it might disappear if he touched it. He reached out to take it, but not before reaching back to take off his own necklace, and put that in Sid’s hand. “ _ There. Now, we’ve traded, and we can both have a bit of each other with us always _ .” 

 

“ _ I can’t-”  _ Sid tried to protest, but Zhenya shushed him, and waved a hand at him dismissively. 

 

“ _ You’re  _ really  _ going to be late, Sid _ ,” he said, and he was right, so Sid just sighed and nodded. 

 

“ _ Talk soon _ ,” he said, because he absolutely wasn’t saying goodbye. He grabbed his bags quickly, and without looking back, and tried not to let his heart hurt when he heard Zhenya pull away from the curb. 

 

Getting through baggage check and check-in was procedural and mind numbing, so Sid made himself focus on that. He didn’t put Zhenya’s necklace on until after he went through the metal detectors; it was heavier than he was used to, but it also felt like an anchor in the best way possible. He kept reaching up to hold the pendant, holding it like a good luck charm as he boarded and sat back in his seat. “Are you a nervous flyer?” the woman next to him asked, and it startled Sid to hear someone speaking English. 

 

“Not really,” he said. “Just… been a while.” 

 

“You’ll be fine,” she said, nodding to him before she pulled out some headphones, and plugged into whatever in-flight movie was playing. 

 

“I’ll be fine,” Sid repeated to himself, still gripping Zhenya’s pendant. He’d have to be.    
  


 

Being home was nice- being home was always nice. It was good to see his family again, and it hurt Sid’s heart a little to see how much Taylor had grown without him seeing. He’d missed a lot, missed too much; Russia had been another world, and he was  _ definitely  _ another person now, leaving it. 

 

He was able to get into his summer training routine without much trouble, after he got over the jetlag and the time difference- except now, he blocked in an hour or so just before bed to call Zhenya. His parents had been a little hesitant about him making long distance calls to Russia, but they- or, his mom, at the very least- had been excited that he seemed to have made a friend, too, so they allowed it. 

 

“ _ You’re lucky I like you so much _ ,” Zhenya told him a few weeks after he’d gotten home, obviously stifling a yawn. It was late for Sid, and very early for him- earlier than Zhenya could probably have woke up on his own unless he was forced. Sid had a pretty decent premonition that, as soon as they hung up, Zhenya fell right back asleep. “ _ Otherwise, I’d sleep through my phone ringing _ .” 

 

“ _ I’m very lucky, yes, _ ” Sid hummed obligingly, turning over to lay on his stomach on his bed. “ _ I like talk to you before sleep.”  _

 

“ _ You’re too sweet to be an ocean away _ ,” Zhenya whined, not for the first time since Sid had gotten home. Sid couldn’t help but agree each time- not that he was cute, but, that he really shouldn’t be so far away from Zhenya. “ _ Lucky for me, we’ll be in the same time zone soon- or, close _ .” 

 

Sid smiled before he actually processed what Zhenya had said, and his heart stopped a little. “ _ You’re coming to Canada _ ?” he asked quickly, rolling back over and sitting up so quickly that he felt a little dizzy. 

 

“ _ No, not Canada,”  _ Zhenya said, sounding a little apologetic. “ _ America. _ ”

 

“ _ What’re you coming to America for _ ?” Sid asked, more than a little confused. “ _ Vacation _ .”

 

“ _ Not really _ ,” Zhenya said. He was obviously holding something back, and Sid didn’t comment for a moment, hoping that would prompt him to elaborate. Evidently, it worked, because eventually Zhenya sighed, and spoke almost too quickly for Sid to understand it. “ _ I’m coming for the draft combine _ .”

 

“ _ The...  _ Zhenya, the draft combine?” Sid had to ask it in English, because he  _ couldn’t  _ be hearing it correctly in Russian. “Like, for the NHL?”

 

“For NHL,” Zhenya confirmed. “I’m…  _ I didn’t know how to tell you, when you were here, because I wasn’t sure it was going to happen. But, it is. _ ”

 

“You’re going to play for the NHL,” Sid said, feeling like he was dreaming. Maybe he’d fallen asleep before Zhenya had actually picked up; this couldn’t possibly be happening. “ _ You’re going to play for NHL!” _

 

_ “Yes,”  _ Zhenya said, somehow managing to sound relieved and proud at once. “ _ And… you’re going to, too, one day, yeah _ ?” 

 

“ _ I am _ ,” Sid said, sounding even more dazed now because there was no  _ way  _ this was happening, there was no way he was this lucky. He and Zhenya were going to be on the same continent, in the same league- maybe, if they were lucky enough, they’d be on the same  _ coast _ , or the same division; close enough that when neither of them had games, one could drive down, or they could hang out during the off season without it being too much trouble. 

 

“ _ So, we’ll get to see each other a lot _ .” Sid could hear a smile in Zhenya’s voice matching the one that was slowly creeping its way across his own face. 

 

“ _ I’m take you to Canada in off season,”  _ Sid said.

 

Zhenya laughed. “ _ Only fair, I suppose. You saw my home, I should see yours _ .” 

 

“ _ You’d love it here _ ,” Sid said- again, not for the first time. “ _ Taylor would love to meet you _ .” 

 

“ _ She’s my favorite Crosby _ ,” Zhenya said, falsely innocent. Sid made an affronted noise. 

 

“ _ I’m your favorite Crosby _ ,” he corrected. Taylor was great, but he wasn’t afraid to compete with her for this particular title- not that Sid had ever really been afraid to compete against anyone for anything. 

 

“ _ Your sister is so nice, though _ …” Zhenya hummed as if he was considering it, and Sid pouted despite himself. “ _ I  _ guess  _ you can be my favorite though, sometimes.”  _

 

“ _ All the time _ ,” Sid countered. 

 

“ _ Sure, _ ” Zhenya acquiesced, and Sid settled. 

 

“ _ Good _ ,” he said, and they went on talking about Zhenya’s trip, and where he hoped he was going to end up. Sid never thought he’d be this excited about someone else’s draft- except maybe Jack’s, but they were being drafted in the same year anyway, so it didn’t count- but after they got off the phone, well over their allotted hour later, he found himself unable to think, thinking about Zhenya’s chances.

 

It was clear they were both thinking about little else, the closer it came to the actual day; speculation about where Zhenya would end up definitely made up more than half their conversations, when they talked on the phone. 

 

Sid wasn’t usually the type to pay too much attention to the combine- he knew he’d be going in a few years, so there was no reason to stress it- but this year, he found himself eating up any and all coverage he could find, especially if it was following Zhenya. 

 

Mostly, everyone was focused on Sasha Ovechkin. Most predictions had him going first, and Zhenya second, which Sid disagreed with- but Sid was also more than a little biased when it came to Zhenya. 

 

“Second puts you in Pittsburgh,” he said after one of the days Zhenya wasn’t actually too tired from everything to call. He’d insisted they switch to English while he was over, just so he could get enough practice- and Sid wasn’t complaining, but it was a little odd not having to pause a few seconds to translate for himself before he spoke. 

 

“I’m like Pittsburgh,” Zhenya said, humming a little. Sid heard him shift on his bed, creaky the same way hotel beds of any quality always were. “Be okay with that.” 

 

“First puts you in D.C.,” Sid tacked on. Zhenya snorted, and Sid could feel him rolling his eyes. 

 

“Sasha go first,” he said. “And, I’m be fine with that. Sasha can have first.” 

 

“You could go first, too,” Sid said, tucking his legs under himself. He didn’t really like speculating like this; it felt like he was jinxing the whole thing. But, Zhenya had to know that he was just as good as Ovechkin. 

 

“Not-” Zhenya made a frustrated noise, and switched back to Russian, obviously done with English for the day.  _ “I don’t want to be a big star, Sid. Being the big star is Sasha’s thing. I just want to play hockey.”  _

 

“ _ Are you talking about me, Zhenya?” _ Sid could hear Sasha’s voice in the background. “ _ Who’re you talking to- is Crosby? Tell him I said hi!”  _

 

_ “I’m not telling him you said anything,” _ Zhenya said, leaning away from the phone for a second. Sid heard the sounds of a struggle not long after that, and cut off snippets of conversation. 

 

“ _ Give me back-” _

 

_ “Hi, Crosby! Can’t wait to-” _

 

_ “He doesn’t want to hear your stupid voice, give me back the damn-” _

  
_ “- kick your ass! Be sure to watch for me in D.C.; you get a head start next year, but don’t get too-” _

 

_ “ _ I’m  _ going to kick your ass first, Sasha!” _

 

_ “- cocky about it! Much love! _ ” 

 

Sid was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe when Zhenya finally got the phone back, and he could feel him pouting down the line. “ _ You’re as much of an asshole as he is _ ,” Zhenya said accusatorily. Sid just kept laughing. 

 

“ _ You like me better, though, _ ” he said once he’d caught his breath.

 

“ _ Not much, _ ” Zhenya said, clearly not meaning it. 

 

Their talks got longer while Geno was in America, which spoiled Sid a little; he’d almost forgotten how short an hour could feel once Geno got back to Russia, but he tried to not feel too disappointed. There wasn’t much either of them could do without bankrupting their families over a long-distance phone bill, so Sid put up with it, and just waited until the draft. 

 

To say Sid was glued to the television, come draft day, would be an understatement. His parents seems chagrined by it, but as soon as he told them it was for Zhenya, they didn’t ask any more questions, even if his dad did frown a little. 

 

His heart sunk a little when they announced Sasha’s name first, but that didn’t last long; if Zhenya was happy with second, so was he. 

 

He barely had time to get through the full circle of that thought before the Penguins were taking the stage, and he was on his feet almost before they got through announcing it. 

 

“ _ The Penguins select Evgeni Malkin _ ,” the man said, and Sid was felt like he was  _ flying _ , a little. The Penguins select Evgeni Malkin; Zhenya was in the NHL. Next year, Sid could watch every game, and cheer him on the whole way, and the year after that- the year after that, he’d be on the ice, either with or against Zhenya, but either way wouldn’t matter. He’d get to  _ see  _ him. 

 

He didn’t really watch the rest of the draft; he didn’t think he’d be able to sit through it. He knew that Zhenya wasn’t going to be able to call for a few hours still, but that didn’t stop him from going up to his room and waiting, anyway. 

 

Sid had taken to pacing when Zhenya called, much sooner than he’d thought he would. He dove across the room for the phone, and gave a breathless “ _ Hello? _ ” as he flopped down onto his bed a second after it connected. 

 

“ _ Did you watch?”  _ Zhenya asked, sounding just as breathless as Sid. 

 

“ _ Of course I watch, _ ” Sid said, grinning, holding back a wave of giddiness. “ _ So proud, Zhenya _ .” 

 

“ _ I’m going to the NHL _ ,” Zhenya said. “ _ It’s like a  _ dream,  _ Sid. _ ”

“ _ It’s real, _ ” Sid said. “ _ It’s real, Zhenya; you made it _ .” 

 

“ _ Your turn next, hm _ ?” Zhenya was obviously teasing, but Sid could tell he was excited. “ _ I think you’d look good in gold, if Pittsburgh could get lucky twice _ .” 

 

“ _ Maybe _ ,” Sid said, because he didn’t want to jinx anything. He’d never had a team he really  _ wanted  _ to go to before, but now- god, did he hope the Penguins could do it. “ _ We’ll see _ .” 

 

“ _ We will _ ,” Zhenya said, and it sounded like a promise. There was commotion somewhere behind him, and he sighed. “ _ I have to go; Sasha wants to go out, and I have to keep him from dying before the season starts. Talk tomorrow _ ?” 

 

“ _ Talk tomorrow, _ ” Sid echoed, and he hung up smiling. 

 

Pittsburgh. Lemieux was in Pittsburgh, and he was a great. Zhenya was in Pittsburgh, now, too;  _ they  _ could be great, together. 

 

Sid could get used to black and gold. 

 

* * *

 

 

There had been rumbling of lockouts in the league for a while now- really, it was a long time coming. That didn’t mean the news still didn’t shake Sid, or disappoint Zhenya. 

 

“ _ No NHL, this year _ ,” Zhenya said when they talked the night the news broke, sounding broken. “ _ I’ll resign with Metallurg probably, so I can keep playing _ .” 

 

“ _ Next year _ ,” Sid said, a promise and a prayer because,  _ god _ , he didn’t know what he’d do without hockey next year, without an NHL next year. “ _ Next year, you will be here, and I will be with you _ .” 

 

“ _ You will, _ ” Zhenya said, and it thrilled Sid a little that that was the part that seemed to be more important to him.

 

Zhenya re-signed with Metallurg for the year, and Sid went back to Rimouski; once their seasons started, they didn’t talk as much as they had during the summer, but Sid also didn’t really have time to miss him in the constant stream of games and finishing his last year of school. They still talked, when they could, and they were both doing well. Sid was more than making up for missing the last season, with the numbers he was putting up, and Zhenya was being just as amazing as he always was, from what Sid could see in highlights and whatever stats he could dig up. 

 

Christmas seemed like a shining beacon to Sid, now- not because it was  _ Christmas _ , though. Christmas Eve, he was flying out to North Dakota, and Christmas Day saw the start of World Juniors, and his first chance to see Zhenya in person again since he’d left Russia. 

 

He knew that it’d be a little difficult, with the unspoken rule of limiting international relations during these kinds of competitions, but he’d break a few of his own routines if it meant getting to see Zhenya again; it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to have people looking at him funny, anyway. 

 

He was giddy on the plane, and on the bus, but his giddiness subsided a little when he actually got to the hotel where Team Canada was supposed to stay. He  _ assumed  _ the Russians would be in the same place, but there was really no way to tell for sure, and his Canadian cell phone wasn’t going to be much use figuring it out. 

 

Luckily for him, moping in the lobby for a while after he’d unpacked and most of the rest of the team had gone to bed paid off, and a little past midnight, the Russian team trudged in, mostly looking like zombies. It wasn’t hard to pick Zhenya out of the crowd, and Sid resisted the urge to call out to him only by biting his tongue. He did stand, though, and tried to catch his eye. 

 

Zhenya didn’t turn around to look at him, looking like he might fall asleep standing up, but Sasha Ovechkin saw him, and grinned like he wasn’t tired at all. He waved and nudged Zhenya, whispering something to him that Sid couldn’t make out and pointing towards him. 

 

Zhenya stiffened, and definitely seemed more awake, but he still didn’t turn around. Instead, he seemed to hiss something back to Ovechkin that made him frown, and look back at Sid, confused. He tried again to tell Zhenya something, and Zhenya snapped back. “ _ Leave it _ ,” he said- this, Sid could hear- and, he slumped again when it drew the eyes of some of his teammates. Sasha didn’t try to say anything more to him, but he kept looking at Sid as the team checked in, and then filed past him to the elevators. 

 

Sid tried again to catch Zhenya’s eye as he passed, but Zhenya turned his head completely in the other direction. Sid couldn’t help but feel a little hurt as Zhenya got into the elevator, still not looking at Sid even when he was clearly in front of him. Ovechkin caught his eye again, though, and shrugged; obviously, he didn’t know what was going on with Zhenya, either, but that didn’t make Sid feel any better. 

 

By the time Sid had gotten back to his room to lick his wounds, he’d decided that it was just that Zhenya was tired; he’d just been on a long flight, and World Juniors was stressful; everyone wanted to win, the pressure of patriotism heavy on their shoulders. Once competition got started- on an off day, maybe, Sid could try again, and it would be fine. 

 

Sid had forgotten, though, how  _ hard  _ it was to be  _ alone  _ during tournaments like these; almost always, he had a few of his teammates by his side, which normally, he would have loved, but that didn’t make much time for wandering off to investigate the whereabouts of the Russian team. Then, when he  _ was  _ alone, and  _ could _ look, it always took  _ ages _ \- less, once he got down a pattern, but by that time, it was more than clear that Zhenya was  _ definitely  _ avoiding him. 

 

“ _ Try talking to him before the finals, maybe _ ,” Sasha had suggested, the one time Sid had found him instead of Zhenya. “ _ I don’t know what’s up with him, either; he won’t tell me, when I ask, and he’s moping around our room and throwing fits, which is  _ annoying.” 

 

“ _ Same room _ ?” Sid asked, perking up. “ _ What number? I come up, after make finals _ ,  _ see if he’ll talk to me _ .” 

 

“ _ I’ll make sure I’m out of the room _ ,” Sasha snorted, and Sid opened his mouth to protest, but he put his hand up. “ _ I don’t care what you two do, really. Other people will- other Russians would, but I don’t. It isn’t my business.  And if you can get Zhenya to stop moping, even better; maybe he’ll take less penalties happy than he does angry _ .” 

 

“ _ Maybe _ ,” Sid said, even though he doubted it. Zhenya always took penalties, happy or angry; that was just how he was. 

 

Ovechkin wrote down their room number, and Sid shoved it in his pocket for safekeeping, and the back of his mind. Zhenya’s drama aside, he still had games to play, and gold to win. He never let his personal life touch the ice before, and even if doing that was messier now, he wasn’t about to start. He left Zhenya, and everything else that wasn’t good hockey, in the locker room. 

 

Russia and Canada both played their last games before the semifinals on the thirtieth, and both of them won, putting them both squarely at the top of the groups. Sid was flying high on the win, still; they were playing the Czechs on the second, and the Russians were playing the Americans the same day, which left Sid and Zhenya the few days before the New Year to talk, and hang out before they potentially had to fight for gold. 

 

He dug Sasha’s paper out of the pocket of his jacket that night, and smiled the whole way up to Zhenya’s room, keeping the nerves at bay. They hit when he knocked, though, and he heard the sounds of laughter and loud Russian chatter getting closer to the door. 

 

Zhenya opened the door, and he was smiling too, until he actually processed that it was  _ Sid  _ standing there, and his whole face went slack with surprise before he caught himself, and frowned. He didn't say anything, just stared like looking at Sid long enough would make him disappear- and with the way Sid’s stomach was sinking to his shoes with every passing second, it just might work. 

 

“ _ Hi,”  _ he said, pushing on. “ _ I- we’re not talk yet, and I wonder if- _ ”

 

“ _ Who’s that, is that Crosby?”  _ They both jumped at the sound of Sasha’s voice coming from inside the room. Neither of them answered, but a few seconds later he peeked his head out from behind Zhenya and grinned at Sid.  _ “Good. I’m going down to the lobby; sort yourselves out and don't do anything gross on my bed.” _

 

Zhenya spluttered as Sasha pushed past him and swaggered down the hall, but just sighed once he was out of sight, and went back to staring at Sid. He looked a little sadder than he had before, shoulders rounded in defeat, but there was a glint of determination in his eye, too. “ _ You should come in, _ ” he said after a few more seconds of staring, and for some reason, that only made Sid’s stomach drop even more. 

 

He walked in, and Zhenya closed the door behind him, but neither of them moved to do anything more once Sid was in the room.  _ “Missed you _ ,” Sid worked up the courage to say, unsure, and Zhenya made a hurt noise and was across the room in a few seconds, pulling Sid into his arms.

 

“ _ I missed you, too _ ,” he said, though he sounded like it hurt him to admit it, which Sid didn’t understand. He didn’t care that much though, tension draining from his shoulders as he pressed his face into Zhenya's chest and breathed properly for the first time in almost a year. 

 

“ _ I miss Russia,”  _ Sid said, he didn't really mean the country, but he knew Zhenya would know what he meant. 

 

“ _ I think Mama misses having you around,”  _ Zhenya said, sounding like he was holding back laughter and tears at the same time. “ _ No one to run errands with her while I'm away. She said to tell you hello.” _

 

_ “Then why haven’t you?”  _ Sid said. It came out more accusatory than he'd meant it to, and he was instantly sorry when Zhenya flinched,, and let go of him. 

 

“ _ This was- I can't, Sid,”  _ he said. Sid blinked at him, uncomprehending, because he  _ couldn't  _ mean what he obviously meant. 

 

“ _ This was a mistake,”  _ Zhenya went on when Sid didn't say anything, pacing over to the other side of the room and bracing himself on the desk, staring down at it rather than up at Sid. “ _ I can't- you can't.  _ We  _ can't. It was all good fun, when the only people that might find out were my family and Sasha, but now, we both have a lot more at risk.  _ I  _ have a lot more to risk, and I can't lose it.”  _

 

_ “You won't,”  _ Sid said, dazed but desperate as he walked over to him and put his shoulder . This had to be a nightmare; Sid had had this nightmare before, so he had to be having it again. “ _ We'll be fine, Zhenya; we’re careful. We can keep being careful, and it'll be okay.” _

 

_ “Be serious,”  _ Zhenya snapped, shaking Sid’s hand off. Sid flinched back, but Zhenya didn't seem to notice, not looking at him. “ _ It isn't worth it. I can't.”  _

 

_ It isn't worth it.  _ Sid felt like he’d been slapped in the face. “Oh,” he said, startled out of Russian, his voice wavering dangerously. 

 

There was a long silence, both of them just standing there, shaking. “ _ You should go,”  _ Zhenya said, finally, and Sid couldn't think of a reason not to. 

 

“ _ Goodbye _ ,” he said, and surprised himself with how steady his voice was, even if he felt like his legs were going to give out as he made his way back across the room. Zhenya didn't try to stop him as he opened the door, or as he made his way out into the hall, and back to the elevator. 

 

Sid felt numb all the way until he made it back to his room and found it empty.  _ Then,  _ everything hit him, and he barely had time to drop face-first onto his bed before he cried. It was quiet, thank god, but it was still more crying than Sid had probably done in years.

 

_ Now,  _ he understood why he'd been told to stay out of relationships; this was worse than any loss Sid had ever felt. The worst part of it, was that Zhenya was  _ right;  _ he'd known that the longer they went on, the more time they were borrowing before it fell on them and ruined everything they'd both worked so hard to achieve and he'd known that it was going to hurt ending it, too. It wasn't Zhenya’s fault that Sid refused to rip the bandaid off first.

 

He made himself sit up and stop crying; it wasn't going to help anything and and this definitely wasn't the end of the world. There was still gold to win, and the better part of a season and playoffs left when he got home, and the combine and draft after that, if the NHL pulled itself together in time. 

 

He only let himself mope for another minute or so before he got up and went to the bathroom. Showering would probably make it look less like he’d been crying, for when his roommate got back, and also probably give him enough time to clear his head entirely so that he could get back to focusing on the tournament. 

 

He’d nearly managed to shove everything into a box when he got out of the shower, but the glint of his necklace in the mirror caught his eye as he was getting out-  _ Zhenya’s  _ necklace. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should take it off; proper ex protocol probably dictated that he should either toss it into the trash or return it to Zhenya, but he’d also been having a  _ really  _ good year, playing with it on. Hockey won out over romance, always, so Sid shook his head and went back to getting dressed. It was  _ his  _ necklace, and his luck; Zhenya had nothing to do with it. 

 

Russia and Canada both won their semifinal games, too, and Sid was glad for the few days off they had before he had to face Zhenya on the ice. Knowing the Russians’ schedule came in handy when it was  _ him  _ avoiding them now, and he almost made it the whole way through without having to see Zhenya, or any of them. 

 

Of  _ course _ , Sasha Ovechkin just  _ had  _ to ruin that. He slipped into the elevator with Sid when he was coming back up from getting shampoo from the lobby, and he raked his hands down every button on the way up to Sid’s room and hit the ‘door close’ button before anyone could join them. “Hey!” Sid squawked, but Ovechkin only turned to point an accusing finger at him, as if  _ Sid  _ was the one being a dick. 

 

“ _ What did you say to Zhenya? _ ” he asked, and before Sid could answer, he held up a hand to stop him. “ _ Actually, no, I don’t want to know what you said, I just want you to fix it. He’s been moping even _ more,  _ and he’s being an absolute ass during practice; I thought you were going to  _ fix  _ things! _ ” 

 

It was more rapid-fire Russian than Sid had had to deal with in a long time, and it made his head spin, but he got the gist of it. “I  _ didn’t say anything _ ,” he said. “ _ He did. Say not worth, we bad idea.” _

 

“ _ Of course you’re a bad idea, _ ” Sasha said exasperatedly, and it stung, even though he obviously didn’t mean it to. “ _ But you’re probably also the best bad idea he’s ever had- Zhenya’s an idiot.”  _

 

“ _ You tell him that, then”  _ Sid said, and he tried to step out onto whatever random floor the door was opening onto, but Sasha held him back, and closed the door again. 

 

“ _ He won’t listen to me, _ ” he said, sighing. “ _ He’s stubborn. _ ”

 

“ _ He doesn’t want me _ ,” Sid said, shaking Ovechkin’s hand off of him. “ _ If he not want, I not make. _ ” 

 

“ _ Believe me, he wants you,”  _ Ovechkin muttered, and Sid didn’t. Sasha sighed again, and let him go. “ _ I’ll see what I can do- no promises, but... I’ll see _ .” 

 

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Sid said, and hated himself for it. He shouldn’t care; Zhenya had made it very clear he didn’t want him, no matter what Sasha thought. The door dinged open again, and Sid tried to step out again, but Sasha held up a hand. 

 

“ _ I did mean that, that you were the best idea he’s ever had _ ,” Sasha said, softer and more serious than Sid had ever heard him. “ _ Even if I don’t do anything- he still wants you. He loves you, and he’ll come around to that, sooner or later. _ ” 

 

Sid didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded, and tried to breathe around the lump that was suddenly in his throat. He’d never said  _ love,  _ and neither had Zhenya; they’d danced around it, before he’d left Russia and on the phone sense, and Sid had known, even if he never said it out loud, that that was what this was. He didn’t need to hear it. 

 

But now he  _ had  _ heard it, and as Sasha finally let him out- on the right floor, thank god; Sid couldn’t be trusted to wander right now- it stuck in his head all the way back to his room. He was in love with Zhenya, even if Zhenya let him go, even if Zhenya maybe didn’t love him back, or maybe did and would never act on it- and for some reason, that put Sid to rest more than anything else. It wasn't open-ended anymore- at least, not from his side. He could deal with being in love with Zhenya, if he knew it; it was just another fact about him, if he treated it like that. What Zhenya did was Zhenya’s business; Sid could be in love, and see him on the ice the few times a year that NHL play dictated- and, maybe one day, they'd be friends again, but Sid would deal with that when he came to it, if he came to it. 

 

Seeing Zhenya on the ice for the gold medal game hurt a lot less than Sid thought it would, knowing this. Zhenya’s jaw was set in determination from the second he stepped onto the ice, and the only time Sid's heart even fluttered was when, during Russia’s national anthem, he caught Zhenya bringing the pendant of his necklace- Sid's necklace- to his lips. He caught Sid’s eye as he did it, and didn't look away until the anthem was over, and they were off. 

 

It was clear from at least the second period, if not earlier, that Russia wasn't coming out with the gold. A part of Sid was a little sympathetic, if not sad, especially when Sasha went down- but most of him was thrumming with the victory before it even happened, gold on his tongue the second the final buzzer rang and they'd done it. 

 

He could see Zhenya skate over to Sasha, who was crying- from pain or loss or both, Sid couldn't tell- and he felt a pang of loss in his chest too, as Zhenya looked over to him. Time seemed to slow down, in the handshake line, and Sid made sure to offer Sasha a “ _ good game _ ” in mumbled Russian. Sasha grimaced, and nodded. 

 

_ “In the NHL, I'll kick your ass _ ,” he promised, and Sid smiled at him. 

 

“ _ Can't wait to see you try,”  _ he said, and Sasha laughed as he moved on, the line sweeping him away. 

 

Zhenya had positioned himself near the end of the line, and Sid didn't think for a second that that wasn't deliberate. Sid reached out to shake his hand, and Zhenya took it, but pulled him into a hug instead. Sid knew there were cameras flashing, and that he'd probably have to answer questions about this, now, but he let himself melt into Zhenya’s arms all the same. It was probably the last chance he'd get. “ _ Good game,”  _ he said. 

 

“ _ Next year,”  _ Zhenya said, and he hesitated a moment before he shook his head and sighed, letting Sid go.  _ “Next year, Sidney Crosby. _ ” 

 

“ _ Next year, _ ” Sid echoed. He wasn't sure what Zhenya was promising, really, but, he also wasn't not going to accept it. Zhenya nodded, and patted him on the shoulder before he let Sid move on. The last few Russians in the line gave him odd looks, but thankfully, the rest of Sid's team was a too caught up in celebrating to pay attention to him. 

 

_ Next year _ stuck in Sid's head the whole night as they were celebrating, and the whole flight home. It was there for almost the rest of the season. Rimouski made it all the way to the Memorial Cup on Sid's mantra of  _ next year _ , but lost it in the last round to the Knights. It stung a little, but it was good that they'd made it that far- or, that was what Sid told the press, and then made himself believe. It was never fun, leaving a season injured and on a loss, but he couldn't let himself get bogged down by it; even if the NHL hadn't sorted itself out, still, the combine was still on as scheduled. 

 

Of  _ course,  _ then his body had to further betray him; he got sick a week before the combine, and was in the hospital for a night, which he just  _ knew  _ the press was going to latch onto. The doctors and his trainer both told him that going to the combine wasn’t the best idea, but he went all the same; there was no way he was missing it, whether the NHL had a draft this year or not. 

 

He didn’t participate in most of the physical trials, but that wasn’t what he was worried about, anyway. The interviews were the worst part of it, really; Sid knew how to make his body work, but he had no idea how to prepare himself for the questions that everyone was asking, even though he and Pat had practiced time and time again as much as they could. 

 

Despite himself, he was a little more nervous coming into the Penguins’ interview than he had been for the others. He’d tried to make himself stop hoping to play with Zhenya, but it hadn’t worked as well as he’d wanted it to. The Penguins were still a team he could get behind, and once he set his mind on something, it had always been hard to change it. 

 

One of the only good parts of the combine, really, was getting to see Jack again. Sid had been so caught up in everything else in his life, he’d forgotten how much he’d really missed him. They didn’t get to hang out much, while Jack was busy with the trials and such, but Jack insisted in coming over to his room the last night before they flew out again. “You fucked off to Russia for a whole year, and you didn’t even send a postcard,” he said, flopping onto the foot of Sid’s bed as soon as he let him out. “That’s just rude, Crosby. Did you find a better best friend out there or something?”

 

“Not  _ better _ ,” Sid said, sitting down next to him. “It was- it was crazy, honestly.” 

 

“Tell me about it, then,” Jack said, rolling to face him.

 

Sid paused for a long moment, staring down at his feet. He knew it wasn't really safe, telling other people about it- but, at the same time, it was  _ Jack _ , and he'd never had a friend in his life so far that he'd shared more with than him. Until Zhenya, anyway. 

 

"So, I was staying with this family," he started slowly, still staring down at his feet- and, slowly, the whole story fell out, almost against his will. He felt lighter when he was done, and the room felt heavier, like every single secret he'd just let out vacated his chest to hang in the air instead. 

 

"This Zhenya guy sounds like an asshole," Jack declared after Sid had been quiet for some time. "And, since you probably won't do it,  _ I'll  _ fight him next year." 

 

"Don't fight him," Sid said, kicking him gently. "It's not that kind of thing, I'm fine." 

 

"It's the principle of the thing," Jack said, hitting him back. "I defended your honor and shit at Shattuck, and I'm not gonna stop with your stupid Russian ex. He's not scary." 

 

"He's kinda big," Sid said, and when Jack snorted, he flushed. "I mean he's  _ tall,  _ asshole." 

 

"I'm tall," Jack said, shrugging and sitting up. "I'll kick his ass." 

 

Sid laughed, a bit at the absurdity of it, and a little because he knew Jack genuinely would get himself in trouble trying to fight Zhenya. All the more reason for him to get on the Penguins and nip that in the bud. 

 

"Really, though," Jack said, quieter now. "I've got your back, Sid; always have, always will." 

 

"I know," Sid said, and he did, but it was nice to hear it. 

 

"I  _ really  _ wish you were a party guy," Jack said with a sigh, kicking off of Sid's bed. "Because, if you were, we could totally sneak out of here and do something cool." 

 

"We're at the  _ NHL Combine _ ," Sid said, rolling his eyes. "You know there's gotta be at least a dozen reporters downstairs right now, waiting for someone to do that." 

 

"I know," Jack said, heaving another sigh. "But it'd be fun." 

 

"We can watch a movie?" Sid offered, and that seemed to be fine. They mostly messed around, but it was some of the most fun Sid had had since coming home, and it was exactly what he needed. 

 

After the combine, there was nothing to do but nurse his injury, train best he could, and wait. Waiting for the draft was worse than waiting for every single Christmas morning he'd ever had. The NHL announced that they'd actually be having a draft, and a  _ season _ , more importantly, a few weeks after the combine, and Sid didn't think he'd ever heard better news in his life.

 

(He couldn't help but think, a little, that that meant Zhenya would  _ be there _ next season, for sure.) 

 

The news came, a few weeks out, that the Penguins had the first pick, and- well. Sid didn't think he could stop himself from hoping, now. 

 

The moments the Penguins called his name, Sid thought he was going to cry. He didn't really have room to, around all the nervous energy, so he just smiled for all the cameras and walked to the stage with legs that he hoped didn't look like they were shaking as much as they felt. He shook everyone's hands, and was swept off for more pictures and handshaking, and some dreaded talking, and by the time he got back to his and Jack's hotel room, he was shaking because he was coming down from an all-day adrenaline rush instead of nerves. 

 

He was a Pittsburgh Penguin. 

 

For a second, he thought to pick up the phone and call Zhenya on the hotel's dime, but he caught himself. It wasn't a good idea- and he'd see him soon enough, anyway. There were only so many weeks of summer before training camp and preseason games, and Zhenya had to be coming over for at least  _ some  _ of that. 

 

Sid moved in with Mario Lemieux as the last dregs of summer were filtering away, and he was on cloud nine. Zhenya was the last thing on his mind as he settled into Pittsburgh, and into living with Mario and his family (which meant that he was the last thing that Sid thought about before he fell asleep and let himself dream), and Russia felt like a distant memory. He had hockey to play here, and hockey had always felt like the most real thing in his life, anyway. 

 

There was a hitch in his step, though, when he walked into the locker room for the first full-team training session they were meant to have for the season, and saw neither hide nor tail of Zhenya. He frowned; every stall was taken, and it didn't  _ look  _ like he was just missing a spot. 

 

There wasn't much time to contemplate it before he was out on the ice and had bigger things to worry about, but it definitely stuck in the back of his mind the whole practice. It took him a week to work up the courage to ask Mario about it, and after that, a whole night for him to  _ actually _ ask. 

 

"Do you know when Malkin's coming?" he asked, a voice so quiet he wasn't sure if Mario could hear it over the television, trying hard to sound neutrally curious. Mario heard him, and didn't answer past quirking an eyebrow at Sid, so he went on: "I know he was drafted the year before me, and he's a good player, so. I was looking forward to playing with him this year." 

 

"There's... complications, with his contract with Metallurg," Mario said, and now it was Sid's turn to pull a face. "He's signed for another season, apparently. Not sure when he'll be coming over, but we're working on it."

 

"Oh," Sid said. He really hoped that his face didn't betray the flurry of emotions passing through him, but, he wasn't so sure. "Okay, then." 

 

Mario looked like he had more questions, but didn't ask, which Sid was grateful for. He stared back the television, but didn't pay any mind to what was happening. He knew, logically, Zhenya resigning with Metallurg had nothing to do with him; he'd probably done it before he'd heard that the lockout was over, or for any manner of other reasons. There was a not so small, not so quiet part of him that was shouting that,  _ obviously _ , it had to be because of him; Zhenya had heard that they were going to be on the same team, and he'd decided it was better to stay in the Superleague and play instead of coming over and being around Sid. 

 

He let himself push that thought around his head when he went upstairs to sleep and ended up not sleeping at all, and made himself lock it away when the sun started to shine through the window and he felt even shittier than he had when he first thought it. Who cared why Zhenya hadn't come over this season? He would eventually, and really, it wasn't Sid's problem either way. Zhenya, at this point, was barely even a teammate. The glaring realization that Sid had been- probably still was,  _ whatever _ \- in love with him didn't matter in the slightest while there was hockey to be played. 

 

He put a moratorium on Zhenya-related moping while the season was going on, and it worked, for the most part. He only really thought of him late at night, when he was too tired from training or games to put much thought into it, or early in the morning, when he lamented ever finding out how warm a bed was when it was being shared with someone. Sid was supposed to  _ like  _ the cold, damn him. 

 

On the ice, though, when none of this was in his head, Sid had never been doing better. By the end of the season, he'd racked up over a hundred points, and he kept thinking he couldn't get any more giddy than he was, and then he'd score again, and he'd fly even higher. 

 

He was back in the Cole Harbour for the summer, and by then, it was nearly like Russia hadn't happened at all. There were only two Russian guys on the Penguins, and as nice as Gonch and Koltsov seemed, Sid had no reason to hang out with them, really. His Russian was probably as rusty as his French had been before he'd been adopted by Flower, who constantly lamented just how tragic everything about his pronunciation was. 

 

He was hungry for the next season, and for the most part, he didn’t notice that something in the air of the Lemieux house had changed when he came back for training camp. Mario and Nathalie were just as kind as they'd always been, and their kids were great, and even though Sid caught Mario looking at him like he had something to say every so often as the season started to wind up, he didn't put much thought into it. Mario didn't press him for answers on things, usually, so the least Sid could do was afford him the same respect. 

 

He regretted that a little, though, when not asking left him blindsided when he came downstairs for dinner one night close to the beginning of the season and was greeted with the sight of Gonch, someone Sid didn't recognize, and  _ Zhenya  _ standing in the Lemieux's foyer. 

 

He stood on the stairs, frozen and unsure if he should come down and brave the storm or run back upstairs and barricade himself in his room until everyone left. He was leaning towards the latter, even if it would leave him with more questions to answer later, but he didn't get to make the decision at all because he heard Zhenya rasp " _ Sid _ " before he could get away clean. 

 

He was like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming  _ train _ when everyone turned to face him, mostly frowning to some degree, with Zhenya's gaping being the notable exception. He looked like Sid had punched the air straight from his lungs, which wasn't fair, because Sid was sure that's how he looked, too. "Do you two know each other?" Mario asked, and Sid couldn't do anything but nod. 

 

"We're... friendly," he said, even if that was a little bit of a lie. 

 

"Good," Gonch said. "That means he has someone else whose ears he can talk off." 

 

Zhenya was frowning now, and looking to Gonch, who rolled his eyes, but translated what everyone had just said carefully before turning back to Sidney. "His English isn't the best, though, so. Maybe go slow?"

 

"I know Russian," Sid said, and everyone but Zhenya looked surprised now. He cleared his throat. " _ Hi, Zhenya _ ." 

 

Zhenya gaped at him again, and Gonch's eyebrows threatened to meld with his hairline. " _ Zhenya _ , huh?" he said, and Sid didn't understand why the nickname was such a big deal, but got the feeling that it  _ really  _ was from the tone of Gonch's voice and the pink that crossed Zhenya's cheeks. 

 

"I think dinner's just about ready, if you'd all like to come to the dining room," Mario said, breaking the tension of the room. Sid couldn't have been happier, tension draining from his shoulders only to immediately return when Zhenya pressed himself up against his side instead of Gonch's. Gonch sent them both a look, and Sid tried to shoot one back that meant  _ help me! _ , but he either wasn't clear enough or Gonch wasn't in a benevolent mood, because he just shook his head and pushed ahead of the both of them. 

 

" _ Sid _ ," he said again, and Sid wasn't having it; not now. He needed time to deal with this; he'd thought he was doing so well, pushing Zhenya from his mind, but with him in front of him, he felt like he was back in Zhenya's hotel room in North Dakota, frayed and raw. 

 

" _ Not here _ ," he said, and he had been right, his Russian was rusty, but he didn't care. All the more reason not to talk to Zhenya. " _ Not now _ ." 

 

" _ Sid, I _ -" Zhenya tried, but Sid pushed past him into the living room and then the dining room, leaving Zhenya to jog to catch up. He sat beside Sid, but Sid kept his eyes trained forward, and hoped that having everyone else in the room was a deterrent for Zhenya to try and start anything. 

 

Zhenya was silent for the most part, picking at his food and sending Sid nervous glances, and Sid felt a little bad for mostly ignoring him, but he also felt a little like he'd earned it, and a little like  _ not  _ ignoring Zhenya would probably just end up poorly for the both of them. Once things were winding down though, he felt Zhenya tugging at his sleeve, and turned to find the full effect of his sad puppy eyes turned on Sid. "Show bathroom?" he asked quietly, English as shaky as Sid's Russian had become, and- well. Sid had never been able to say no to that look before. 

 

"Sure," he said, offering Zhenya a small smile, and they way Zhenya's face lit up just the slightest bit in return made Sid's stomach flip just as much as it had the first time he'd seen it. He stood, and Mario looked to him. "I'm gonna show Zhenya the bathroom." 

 

"Of course," Mario said, nodding and waving them on, but Sid could feel his eyes on them as they left, and he was relieved to be out of the room. 

 

They were both quiet as they walked through the house, but Zhenya felt like a heavy shadow as he trailed behind Sid. Somewhere between the dining room and the bathroom, Sid figured out that this was probably more of a tactic to get him alone than anything else, and as they reached the bathroom and Zhenya pulled him inside, he braced for a fight. 

 

What he got instead was Zhenya pulling him close and burying his face in Sid's shoulder, his own shoulders shaking. " _ Sid _ ," he said for the third time that night, this time more mournful than any of the others. " _ Sid. I can't believe you're here, I can't believe- I missed you, I missed you so much, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--"  _

 

Sid's heart  _ ached _ , because now, Zhenya was  _ crying  _ and clutching the back of Sid's shirt like it was the only thing keeping Sid from disappearing entirely. " _ It okay _ ," Sid said, wrapping his arms around Zhenya like it was second nature and shushing him. " _ Breathe, Zhenya, be okay."  _

 

_ "I didn't think I  was going to get to see you again _ ," Zhenya said in between gulps of air, obviously trying to calm down. 

 

" _ I not think you want to _ ," Sid said. He knew that was just twisting the knife, and Zhenya made a hurt noise, but he had to say it. 

 

" _ I never wanted to let you go, _ " Zhenya said, speaking almost too quickly for Sid to understand, words tripping over one another. " _ I was so  _ scared _ , Sid; Metallurg didn't want me to go, even then, and I was so scared of messing everything up, for me and for you; I should never have let you go. I was stupid, so stupid, I-" _ Zhenya choked on a word, and Sid didn't have to hear him say it; he said it himself. 

 

" _ I love you _ ," he said, and Zhenya made another hurt noise, but he pushed on. " _ I love you- loved you. Think you not, think you think- _ " 

 

"I love you," Zhenya said, in English. It was clearly something he'd practiced, and the thought of that only made Sid's heart crack a little more. "I love you, too, Sid, so much. I-" He shook his head, and switched back to Russian. " _ I was stupid. I was stupid, and I hurt you, and I don't... I don't expect anything, because I have no right, but- _ " 

 

Sid didn't even let him finish his sentence, or let himself finish thinking about why all the reasons what he was going to do was an awful idea. Zhenya was his teammate, now; Zhenya was also  _ here _ , though, and his  _ teammate,  _ and if he loved Sid- if he loved Sid, then everything was worth it.

 

He kissed Zhenya, and he felt his heart break the rest of the way and repair in one motion when Zhenya gasped before kissing back. "I love you," he said, kept saying in between breaths, and Sid said it back until it barely seemed like words anymore, even if the sounds never lost meaning. 

 

Sid didn't want to pull away, but he knew that the longer they stayed away, the more obvious it was that they weren't just lost looking for the bathroom. (Well, it was probably at least a little obvious already, since Sid was still gone, but he decided not to think about what kind of questions he was going to get from Mario after everyone went to bed.)

 

“ _ We should go back,”  _ he pulled back to say, but Zhenya just whined and pulled him back in. “ _ Zhenya, really. Have to go back, people know why we gone so long.” _

 

_ That  _ seemed to get through to Zhenya, but he still sighed when he stepped back, smoothing his hands down the front of Sid's shirt. “ _ I don't want to let you go again,”  _ he said. “ _ I'm afraid I'll lose you, if I do.” _

 

_ “You're not losing me,”  _ Sid said, reaching out and squeezing his hand.  _ “I'm not go anywhere. Have me for good.” _

 

And, that was a promise Sid maybe shouldn’t have made, because he knew very well that there wasn't much certainty about always being in the same place, in hockey- and Zhenya probably knew that, too, but he smiled all the same. “ _ You’ll always have me, too, _ ” he said.

 

Maybe, Sid thought as he smiled back, and they started walking back to the dining room, Zhenya at his side now, he shouldn't be so quick to jump into things again. Or, no- he  _ knew  _ he shouldn't. He knew it was stupid, beyond stupid, to start anything with Zhenya, especially before they were both established in the league- but at the same time, he also thought he'd earned a little stupid. They were both happy, and as long as they were careful, that was what mattered. 

 

Conversation didn't  _ stop  _ when they came back into the room, but there was a definite hitch, but Sid pretended to ignore it as he sat back down and picked right back up eating. After a few moments,, Mario and the man Sid didn't recognize went back to talking, and the only person looking at them weird was Gonch. 

 

“ _ You took your time finding the bathroom,”  _ he said, faux casual. The fact that he had the good grace to say it in Russian so that no one else at the table could understand didn't make Sid blush any less, and Zhenya choked on his drink. 

 

“ _ We talked some,”  _ Sid admitted, and Gonch hummed. 

 

“ _ I'm sure,”  _ he said, he sounded more amused than anything, which was a relief. “ _ Maybe ‘talk’  _ after  _ dinner, next time?” _

 

Sid flushed even darker, and Zhenya didn't look up from his plate until they'd cleared the table, and even then, he wouldn't look Gonch in the eye. He looked almost scared when Gonch got up to leave, but Sergei muttered something Sid couldn't hear, and that seemed to but Zhenya at ease a little. “ _ I'll see you soon,”  _ he said before he got up, hovering for a second before putting a hand on Sid's shoulder and patting it. 

 

“ _ Soon, _ ” Sid echoed, smiling and just barely resisting the urge to do something stupid like insist Zhenya could stay with him in the guest room. 

 

Sid didn't try to make his escape just after Zhenya left, which was probably a mistake- but, he also knew that running from whatever questions Mario may have probably wouldn't help them in the long run. It was a while before Nathalie started rounding up the kids, and the man Sid  _ still  _ didn't know, but assumed was Zhenya's agent from what he could hear him talking to Mario about took his leave. It still wasn't until it had just been them and the late-night TV show Mario had turned on for a full ten minutes that Mario spoke. “I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to this, because you're a good kid, and I know how much the game and the team mean to you,” he said, slow and measured. “You and Evgeni- whatever you two are doing, it's not going to get on the ice, yeah?” 

 

“Of course not,” Sid said.

 

“Good,” Mario said, and then he paused before adding: “And I'm not going to have to give him the shovel talk, right?” His tone had switched to something more paternal, and if Sid wasn't totally mortified, he would've smiled. 

 

“No,” he said. “No, I don't think so.”

 

“Good,” Mario said again. “Then, I'm happy for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Sid said, and it came out more like a relieved sigh than a word. Mario wasn't the whole team, he knew, but as the captain, he still mostly spoke for them. If Mario had his back- had  _ their  _ backs, then it was easier to assume that the rest of the team would, too. Not that Sid intended on bursting into the locker room and declaring his love for Zhenya any time in the near or distant future. 

 

He didn't get to see much of Zhenya, for a while; Gonch was nice enough to give him short updates before practice sometimes, about how things were going with Zhenya settling in and Metallurg trying to get him back, and Sid didn't think he breathed properly until he walked into the locker room one morning and saw Zhenya there, talking to Gonch in rapid-fire Russian and smiling at Sid when he came in. 

 

It took pretty much everything Sid had not to run up and hug him then and there, but he managed it, mostly because Flower ambled in seconds behind him, and dragged Sid into a conversation. 

 

Seeing Zhenya on the ice again was amazing- and, not having to play against him was even better. His first game was home, against New Jersey, and Zhenya scored a goal in the second, a rebound from Whitney.

 

"Fucking,  _ best,  _ Geno," Sid said once Zhenya got back to the bench, patting him on the shoulder. 'Geno' still didn't trip off the tongue, but, it was what everyone else on the team was calling Zhenya, so he went with it. 

 

" _ This is my dream _ ," Zhenya said, sounding a little dreamy. " _ This is my dream, Sid, since I was a kid _ ." 

 

" _ I know,"  _ Sid said, and he sent a furtive look across the bench before reaching out and squeezing Zhenya's hand. 

 

Zhenya's dreamy smile only got wider. " _ Next one, I want to get from you _ ."

 

Sid's heart stuttered, but he didn't have much more time to contemplate it; he was back out on the ice in a heartbeat, and everything that wasn't playing slipped away. 

 

Zhenya's goal was their only one of the night, but they were back out the next night in New York, and eager to get their momentum back. They were leading coming out of the first, but down coming into the third. 

 

Eight minutes in, Sid and Zhenya were on the ice together, and there was a pass from Whitney to Sid, and then from Sid to Zhenya, and- 

 

And then, Sid was flying across the ice to hug Zhenya. He just barely got there first, hugging Zhenya. " _ Next one from me _ ," he said, and neither of them could stop smiling for the rest of the night. 

 

They won in overtime, and Zhenya convinced Talbo to switch rooms with him under the pretense of needing to get away from his roommate's snoring, and Talbo must have been in a good enough mood from the win to let him have his way. 

 

They were too tired to do anything, but Sid was happy to just have him there. The hotel bed was cramped, but it was comforting, being able to reach out and touch Zhenya like he used to, and not being scared of any prying eyes or cameras. 

 

“ _ I think I owe Sasha,” _ Zhenya said once they’d been lying there a while. “ _ He made me work up the nerve to do something  _ twice;  _ I don’t think he’ll ever let me live that down. _ ” 

 

“ _ Buy him dinner when we see him, next month,”  _ Sid said, yawning a little around his words. 

 

“ _ He’s buying  _ me _ dinner,”  _ Zhenya said, shaking his head. “ _ Because we’re going to win _ .  _ But, I’ll buy him a drink _ .” 

 

Sid laughed, and turned to press a kiss to the corner of Zhenya’s mouth. “ _ Early flight in the morning _ ,” he said. “ _ Sleep, send Sasha flowers later. _ ” 

 

“ _ I’m  _ never  _ buying Sasha flowers _ ,” Zhenya said, with feeling, but he settled back and wrapped his arm tighter around Sid’s waist, and it didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep after that. 

 

Sid woke up long before their alarm, shivering a little and frowning at the sudden shock of cold air. He opened his eyes, and blinked until they adjusted, and turned over to see that the reason he was so cold was because Zhenya had yanked all of the blankets over to his side and wrapped himself up in them. He huffed, scooting closer and settling for wrapping himself around Zhenya instead. 

 

Sid usually loved the cold, but he was growing a little fonder of feeling warm. 

**Author's Note:**

> The working titles for this fic were "dear god, why am I physically incapable of writing short fic", and "kids make big promises and then angst about it" (because, like a True Writer, I had no idea what to title this until I was up at four am thinking about it and listening to Sara Bareilles on repeat.) 
> 
> I'd like to thank the creators of the exchange, who made me almost physically jump for joy when I saw that this was happening, my those who have cheered me on as I powered through this, and my two wonderful betas, who stepped up and helped me not rip my hair out at the finish line. 
> 
> As for my prompter(??? is that what you call it. Ficee): I hope you enjoy this! I tried to touch on as many of your likes/tropes as possible.


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